


Chivalry Fell On Its Sword

by corinnemaree



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, im serious give me a chance i am good at this, it gets very angsty in the middle but i swear to god its worth it pls bear with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-02-28 09:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 108,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18753379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: Arya jumped up onto the brick work, hands scraping at the edge and feet kicking until her sneakers caught on the right part, gripping and giving her leverage. One hard push, and she was able to sit up on the top, sighing as she caught her breath. Peering over the side, she saw that annoying sack of shit waiting there, smiling up at her as he waited. Gendry moved, taking off from the wall to give her a smug grin.“Fuck you,” Arya sighed, slipping down from the top of the wall, Gendry catching her by the waist so she didn’t have to struggle - just dangling from the edge of the wall like a massive twat.~All Arya wanted was to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate events, she's stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.





	1. Innocence Died Screaming

**Author's Note:**

> this was made specifically for my friend Micah, and I didn't really plan on posting it but Gendrya was making me sad and I wanted happy gendrya content  
> (also, this was only mildly beta'd, so if there are mistakes....my bad)

“Shit,” Arya cursed, trying to snatch the bag from the narrow opening in the gate. It had been caught in the gap, but she couldn’t take any other exit in her escape. 

“ Oh, just come loose, you fucking bitch,” she snapped, wrenching the bag back until she went tumbling back onto her ass. To herself, she hissed before she laughed, standing up to rub at the sore spot on her back. But she was free! The little pain she had meant nothing to her now.  

Arya had slipped past the guards for what felt like the millionth time. She wasn’t good at following rules - ever since she was little, Arya snuck away from guards and security, making sure she had the most fun a normal girl her age would. Being royalty, and certainly not the next in line for the throne, was incredibly boring and a rigid existence. All she wanted to do was play soccer and practice kickboxing, and do fun, adventurous things. But that wasn’t ladylike. She had to wear dresses, and be presentable like her sister. 

But Arya wasn’t her sister. She was her own bloody person, and ever since she reached her teens, rebelling was the one thing she was incredibly good at. School may not have been her strong suit, but she was smart, she was tough, and she was ruthless when she needed to be. When her late teens came, a university education expected, there was nothing that interested her. So, she told her father that is wasn’t for her - she wasn’t going to be her sister. Ned was good with her, letting her follow her path. She was never going to be a queen - she could live a relatively normal life. 

In the press, Arya was thoroughly regarded as the mysterious young Stark. Robb was the next king, his role, clear as day, and he kept his chin up and eyes focused on his task. Jon was their orphaned cousin, adopted by their father when his parents passed - he was nowhere in line for the throne, but he was Robb’s closest advisor on certain military matters. Sansa was the perfect picture of all princesses, prim and proper like every girl was supposed to be - caring and giving to the people. Bran was the budding theology professor if his future university studies went the way he wanted - Cambridge was excited to have him. Rickon - well, he was like every other sixteen year old, a weird kid that had no real vision beyond playing rugby whenever he could. 

Arya, was elusive. Press days, she was in photos, stood beside her mother or father, but never stayed long. She had found the back passages throughout the palace, and knew the right time to slip the gaze of even her finely turned mother. 

It was hard to explain why, but Arya liked being hidden. Ever since she was a child, seeing her siblings made her want to be invisible. It was easier to hide when the eldest sister was beautiful and smart, everything the country wanted a princess to be. All Arya ever wanted to do was play like her brothers. When it came time for university or military service optional, Arya nearly jumped at the opportunity to get into a fight. But she lacked the skill, body structure and height to be fit for military action. 

And it crushed her. 

She worked as a military aid for some time, a short stint flying into warzones, but never seeing any action beyond it. She trained hard to be a pilot, finding the pits an alternative to getting into a physical fight, but it wasn’t enough. There was nothing wrong with being a pilot, but she much prefered the ground. But that’s what royalty was for, no real action unless you’re a man, and the mechanics and driving is left to the women - if they even wanted to. 

So, all in all, Arya’s time with the royal air force and military wasn’t what she wanted, and everything else seemed tedious. Arya wanted more from her life, a grand purpose - she was bound to slay enemies, rule like an ancient king and have her name plastered in everyone’s memory. But what she was left with was a skirt she hated to wear, and make up that was always rubbed off her face. With those hated skirts. 

Arya was known around the area. Of course as royalty, but mainly as the princess that often snuck into their town and milled about, going to any store and perusing for a few hours of her freedom. Not many people brought up her royal lineage, apart from those that she hadn’t visited before. The first explanation often gave them enough to leave her alone if she came back. And she always did. 

She had managed to make it into town, no alarm bells, a few texts, but at least there weren’t any calls. When she got called by her mother, she knew it was time to get back to the castle. 

On this particular day of her escape, she went to the gym. The palace wasn’t exactly equipped with the machines she wanted, nor did it allow her freedom of looking at new surroundings instead of her tired old home. What she didn’t expect when she returned from changing into her workout gear was the head of security, Brienne Tarth, exercising on a pec flye machine, pulling her arms together and letting them stretch apart. 

Ducking her head down, Arya tried to move past her, but the ferocious, and terrifyingly tall woman spotted her the minute her arms came apart. “Your highness! You are not allowed out of the palace without -” She was practically shouting across the gym and Arya rolled her eyes, shifting her weight onto the side of her hip. 

“Brienne,” Arya said, quirking her eyebrow. The head of security sighed, letting the weight machine buckle and slide back into place. 

“You are...one exhausting girl,” she huffed, rummaging through her bag. “Are you coming to train?” she questioned, finding a towel to wipe sweat from the back of her neck. She stood, her height even more intimidating than it was before, but Arya raised her chin to stare back at the woman. 

“I just wanted to exercise a bit and walk around the town.” 

“Did you leave -” 

“Yes,” Arya replied, knowing the question. Brienne huffed, throwing her towel into her bag.

“I really shouldn’t have put Podrick on your detail,” 

“You really set him up for failure,” Arya shrugged and Brienne shook her head.

“Poor boy.” 

“I’m going to get to it,” Arya said, pointing towards the treadmill. Brienne started to pack up her things, slugging her duffle bag onto her shoulder.

“Be back by eight. I don’t need to explain to your mother why you’re not at home again.” Brienne began

“And you can’t lie to the Queen,” Arya reminded, the failed attempts of Brienne lying because of Arya’s begging had not slipped either of their memories. “I’ll try!” she called, walking towards her machine. 

She knew Brienne would protest - say she should be better than trying, but there was no arguing with Arya. She was a free spirit, and time frames were not how she lived. 

Working out until her legs nearly buckled and her arms tired far too quickly, she quickly showered. Wandering from the changing rooms, Arya pulled her hair up, trying to fit it into a loose ponytail. Instead, she was practically floored when a wall of a chest got in her way. He nearly knocked her straight off balance, his hands gripping onto her elbows.

“Shit, sorry,” a deep voice apologised. Arya rebalanced, stepping away from him and looked him over, ready to be pissed. But something in her froze, like a schoolgirl suddenly realising her crush just walked into the room. Yet, she’d never met this man before. He wasn’t tall, but he was taller than her - which wasn’t an accomplishment. His head was shaved, as though it were all the way down to the scalp once, but the budding hair was coming through again. Across his jaw small stubble grew, and close by was the smirk of a cocky man. 

“Didn’t see you there,” he said, suddenly looking straight forward then down. A smile crack straight across his face, as though he was keeping in a wanted laugh. 

“Is that a dig at my height?” Arya raised an eyebrow, waiting for his reply. 

The man swallowed, ducking his head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I could barely see you were in the room,” he said, a smirk at the edge of his lip.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re not very nice to strangers?” she pointed out, and the man cleared his throat, repositioning his stance, as though to gain the upper hand.

“No, but you didn’t let me finish. I was going to say, I could barely see you, now it’s impossible to look away,” he replied, his mouth ajar slightly as his tongue darted out to lick at his lips. Arya huffed out a laugh, taking a step in, and knocking the man off his guard. 

“You need to get better at that,” she replied, looking up at him. 

He straightened out his shoulders. “What?” 

“Flirting. You’ve got the face for it too, your lines just need a little work,” she said, pushing past his shoulder, going towards the exit. 

“Noted,” he called out. Arya waved over her shoulder, turning back to briefly to catch him staring. It was oddly refreshing for her - to let herself flirt so openly and not care. She had done it before, but she’d always had a lingering eye catching her and ushering them away before they could even think of getting near a princess. Arya liked being...just Arya.

Captured in a moment, she was just Arya. Not Arya of House Stark. But the moment she pushed the door open, she was the princess again, wandering a town which she shouldn’t have been. 

Finding, only a few streets away, a coffee shop, Arya went inside and set up her laptop. She wasn’t doing anything for university - one would have to go in order to do work for it - or even looking up things on her family as some sort of pride thing. Instead, Arya sat and wrote out a speech she was supposed to give at her father’s birthday party in three weeks. Arya wasn’t good at public speaking - drawing attention to herself wasn’t on her to-do list. 

But it was her father. And she’d do anything for him. 

With a coffee in hand, she tried to write something meaningful to them both, something that might make him cry or even make Robb tear up. But words weren’t always kind to Arya, losing themselves at the crucial moment. Preparing to say what she needed helped - but the boredom was it’s cost. 

The bell chimed every so often, signalling a new customer, but it just became an odd occurrence. It wasn’t until someone hovered nearby, tall and straight shouldered that Arya looked up. With a bag hung over his shoulder, and a new coffee in hand, he smiled down to her. 

“Ah, gym girl,” he named her, and she rolled her eyes. 

“I feel like I need a better name than gym girl, don’t you?” 

“Well, what’s your name?” he asked. Arya didn’t know if he knew, he didn’t seem to, otherwise he may have tried to run, or could come on too strong. She just...wanted something normal. He did that for her. 

“Private,” she replied, swallowing down the want to connect, replacing it with a wall that had to be built. 

“Okay private, you can call me major,” he said with a smile. Arya went back to her laptop. 

“A major cunt,” she whispered, but it caught the ear of him. Because he laughed at her snide remark. 

“Military codes,” he corrected, and as she looked up, her brow furrowed deep. 

“I know that. I’m just calling it as I see it,” she shrugged back. 

“You’re kinda rude,” he noticed, tipping his coffee to his lips and drinking some down. Arya reclined back into her chair, hands in her lap as she looked up at the cocky bastard. It was hard to stop smiling when she looked at him - he was extremely attractive, and he wasn’t being a dick like many others had been. She was just defensive. But he seemed ready for that. As though he understood her somehow.

“Well, all this rage builds inside my small body, gotta let it out somehow,” she remarked, smiling back at him. He chuckled at her and she wanted to laugh too, but it felt strange. As though letting herself feel the humour of it all was too much.

“I can see that,” he nodded, glancing down to his watch. “I’ll leave you to it. See you, private.” He gave a lazy salute, going to exiting the store.

“See you,” she said, watching him leave, looking over his shoulder with a small wave in toe,  “major,” she whispered under her breath. She wasn’t going to give him the bloody satisfaction of hearing her say it. 

But she couldn’t help but notice that throughout the rest of her time in the coffee shop that she couldn’t stop smiling to herself. 

When the night was winding down, the castle looming over the town seeming even more intimidating in dusk, Arya didn’t want to go home. Calling a castle a home was a strange, as though such a building could be a welcoming embrace after a long day. Arya wasn’t one to be waited on, hand and foot. She wandered and moved against what her family name expected of her. 

The town dwilded in masses, igniting their lights throughout the town, and the creatures of the night emerged. Those that wanted their night off, crawling from pub to pub, letting their jobs wear them out until they could suffer no more than a nice dinner and a drink - they all came out. Arya liked watching them, wondering what it would be like to be normal like they were. She felt freer than they were, but less free to be...normal. 

Finding a group that would not stop chanting, she felt like she was drawn to them like a moth into a burning flame. The Stag Head. They all came wandering in, shouting and greeting everyone inside. The noise was insane, radiating outward, almost filling to the brim with people. And Arya beamed. She almost raced inside, shoving her way into the crowd and finding a spot on the bar. She didn’t get a seat for a while, but she didn’t mind the people - they were happy and loose, letting the night fuel their tired bodies.

Arya sat up on the stool, ordering a craft beer and waited for it to come around. She let the band in her hair come loose, falling around her shoulders and her fingers rubbing at her scalp. Scooping her hair to the side, she rested her elbow on the bar, tapping her foot on the stool’s beam. As a loud cheer echoed over the bar, Arya peered up from scanning the line of bottles on the wall. At the entrance she saw the man she knew as Major. 

There was a pulling sensation to roll her eyes at him whilst also smiling until he saw her. Fuck. She was being an idiot. Instead of indulging, she focused back at the bottles. She counted to thirty four before someone met at her side. She almost didn’t want to turn, just seeing his smug face might make her react violently. 

She hadn’t experienced...attraction like this. He made her mad at herself for feeling it. It was physical, she thought. He was good looking, and he had a nice enough smile. That’s what made her feel kind of giddy. But most of all, she wanted to punch him in the mouth purely to see if it would stop her from feeling whatever it was. 

“Are you even old enough to drink?” he said, and Arya sighed, the smile finally creeping onto her lips. 

“Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m young,” she said, still not looking his way. 

“Sure,” he laughed, and Arya almost cracked, looking to see how wide he was smiling now, “you come here a lot?” 

Arya straightened up before leaning back down onto the bar. “Not really. Just kind of stumbled across this place. Quite nice,” she shrugged.

“I’ll let the owner know.”

Finally, Arya looked to him, raising her brow. “Are you just that nice?” 

He shrugged. “I know the owner.“

Arya narrowed her gaze at him. “I’m starting to think you’re following me,” she questioned. He scoffed back.

“I live here, you’re the one that’s new here. Are you following me?” 

“You’re not that funny,” Arya rolled her eyes as her drink landed in front of her. Arya picked it up, almost raising it to her lips but Major spoke quickly. 

“And that’s an expensive drink. You a rich girl or something?” he asked, and Arya scoffed. 

“Or something,” she smiled as the glass touched her lips. Major smiled back, waving down the bartender who simply nodded and got him whatever his usual drink was. It ended up being whiskey on the rocks.

The night wound down, the crowds dispersing and the pub turning into an average tavern. Arya was shocked to find herself completely immersed in conversation with Major. He spoke of his time away, wishing he was back home - that he was going to be working with a friend from university soon. Yet, even as she talked to him, she could feel he wasn’t letting something out. She could understand that. But she was royalty pretending to be just...an average woman. She lied, saying she was finishing up university soon, her major being communications. He didn’t understand what she would study, and she said some bullshit about it being too hard to explain. 

After Arya’s third beer, Major leaned into her, hand snaking underneath the bottom of her stool. Arya looked back at him, the smile on his face was lazy, mixed with his whiskey - a confidence that he hadn’t exhibited before. Arya stopped her hand from raising, focusing back at the man in front of her. 

“What line am I going to have to say to get you to consider going out with me,” he said. And she laughed, resting her elbow on the bar and her chin in her palm. They were inches from each other, staring at each other with an unyielding gaze - as though the first to break would lose. 

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?” she smirked. He gave back a soft shrug, leaning down a little more. 

“I’d like to at least be a contender. Feel like I keep falling over myself when I talk to you.” 

“Bet you say that to every girl,” she rolled her eyes. He gave her pathetic lines like that, as though one would break her. 

“No. Not every girl,” he said, tilting his head. 

“You’re really bad at this.” 

“So are you, but you do try,” 

“So do you, but I get better, and I make it look  _ easy _ ,” she 

“Yes, you do,” he said, suddenly jerking her stool towards him. She finally understood why his hand was under her chair. He wanted this to happen. 

“Do you really think you can handle me?” Arya challenged, her brow raised as she stared him down. He softened in a way that made Arya’s heart race. He met her gaze with his own passion. He wasn’t backing down. 

“Not at all, but I was counting on that,” he said. He finally found it - the line that broke her. It was as though he was seeing beneath the surface of her, under the walls, and peaking at how she wanted to be treated. She was a threat, she wasn't to be taken lightly. And he didn’t want to - he wanted the handful that she was - even if it were for a night, he wanted  _ her _ . 

Arya shifted forward, letting her elbow slip as the two tentatively leaned into each other. All she wanted to do was feel what his lips were like, if they were tender or rough, if the stubble on his jaw would scrap over her cheek if he pulled her forward like she wanted. But she recoiled first, her phone buzzing in her pocket. She wrenched it free from her jeans, finding her mother calling. 

“Shit,” she cursed, the call ending before she could answer it. It was well past midnight, and her mother was only now calling. She was going to be killed before she got home. Fuck. Arya hit her forehead to her phone, standing up and scattering from her things. Major was sputtering out some words, almost standing from his stool, but she sat him back down. “I gotta go. It was nice..flirting with you. While it lasted anyway,” she smiled, waiting a moment, seeing if she’d let herself give in. As her phone chimed again, she knew she couldn’t. 

Going for the door, Arya turned back the last second to see him one last time. He was looking back to her, the softest smile spreading across his lips. Everything told her to stay, but the nagging phone in her hand ushered her away from the bar. 

When she got back to the palace, the look on both her mother’s and Brienne’s face told her enough - she was dead meat. 

And now, a dog on a leash as well. 

But...she got one day. 

 

~*~*~

 

Gendry adjusted his tie, trying not to let on that the night before had gotten to him more than it should have. The entrance to the palace shook him more than it should have - he had been in warzones, but a grand palace foyer had his skin on edge. More than anything, he wanted to get this over and done with - he mainly took this job because his mum’s tavern was having some issues and Jon said the job paid well. 

And plus, it was Jon. They’d known each other for nearly ten years, their university days binding them forever. As he waited, at the top of the large staircase, he saw the familiar man from his youth. 

“Jon,” Gendry greeted. The short royal perked as he saw him, marching in a determined gate before they finally reached each other. 

“Gendry!” he called, embracing him tightly, before leaving an arm’s distance between them.  “it’s great to see you man, it’s been a while!” 

“No kidding,” Gendry laughed, pointing to Jon’s face, “keeping the beard, I see,” he said with a nod and Jon scoffed, running a face over his jaw. 

“At least I kept my hair,” he replied.

Gendry ran his hand over his head. “Some of us have jobs to do,” he shrugged, “thanks for setting this up by the way.” 

“It was no trouble,” Jon said, guiding Gendry up the stairs only to stop mid stride, “but in advance...I’m sorry.” 

Gendry went back a step, meeting Jon’s worried look with his own. “Why?” 

“You’ll get it soon.” He quickly kept moving and Gendry was left to follow straight after. 

“Are you having me shovel horse shit?!” 

“You might prefer that in a week,” Jon replied simply and Gendry’s brow furrowed deeper.  _ How the fuck was that meant to be comforting, you prick? _

“You’re a cryptic fucker, you know that?” Gendry swore. Jon laughed as the pair were met with a tall blonde woman. 

“Brienne Tarth, this is Gendry,” Jon greeted. Gendry extended his hand, giving her a familiar, barely present smile. 

“We met for the interview. Getting him to meet his assignment today,” Brienne nodded towards Jon, who had already started to walk off from the pair. 

“Have fun!” he called out, going about to wander the halls of the palace - letting Gendry suffering with his lack of information. 

“Why does he keep saying that,” Gendry said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. 

“You’ll understand soon enough,” Brienne said, barely registering a shift in tone. 

“I’m beginning to regret this,”

“You’ll be on the youngest daughter, Arya. Code name is Nymeria,” she said, handing him a folder full of who he was set to protect. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“She had a dog when she was younger, and wanted it to be her code name. So, she’s stuck with it now,” Brienne waved the question off, as Gendry slowed down to read over the folder, picking up on a few lines, flicking a few papers over and catching a glimpse of the pictures of his assignment. 

Gendry stopped midstep. This had to be a joke right? This couldn’t be the same -

“Hurry up,” Brienne said, and Gendry focused back to her, immediately rushing to keep in step with the head of security.

 

~*~*~

 

Arya had positioned the rod up in her walk in wardrobe, locked in between two walls to allow her to do pull ups in her own room. Since she’d fucked up the day before, she was essentially under house arrest until her mother worked out what punishment would fit Arya better. 

It would be punishment to Arya - it’d just be another royal outing of some kind, donating to a charity and speaking to a crowd that had no idea who she was. 

Arya huffed, locking her ankles in place as she urged her body up again. She’d been working out for nearly an hour before she heard a knock at her door. She was hidden away in her wardrobe, so seeing anyone was impossible in her position. 

“Your highness?” she heard Brienne call. 

“Here!” Arya grunted, pulling herself up again, and when she saw Brienne walk in, she dropped to the ground. Sitting down, she stretched out her arms, bending and arching her body to not tense up. 

Arya stopped the minute she saw the man behind Brienne. Her mouth was dry, and she felt like coughing until she didn’t choke anymore. Because that’s all her body wanted to do - choke on the moment, because this could not be happening. Was this the punishment? Did they somehow find him. She stood, dusting herself off. 

“Your highness, this is Gendry Waters, your new bodyguard.” He gave a soft bow as a greeting. Arya wanted to return it, but stayed still. Oh no, this was much worse than punishment. It was unintended punishment and embarrassment. Her mother, or the fucking universe, really knew how to kick her in the gut. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t you dare scare him off like the others.” Brienne turned on her heels, moving out of the wardrobe.

“Hey! It’s not my fault Sam can’t keep up,” Arya called out just as the door to her room shut. 

The two stayed in silence, the deafening way it surrounded them, reminding them of what was being unsaid. They weren’t going to avoid it - and because Arya hated awkward situations, she was definitely going to bring it up. She knew her mind, how she was going to spit it out. Her walls coming straight back up. 

“I don’t remember you saying you were a bodyguard last night,” Arya quipped, moving past him swiftly to get to her bed, and reaching for the towel that rested on the edge. She wiped away the sweat on her body, covering her shoulders once she had finished. 

“Never mentioned you were royalty either,” he reminded her. “Your highness,” he corrected himself quietly. 

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped, her cheeks feeling red hot. She hope the colour didn’t show. More than anything, she hoped he didn’t notice how much she hated him calling her that. 

Gendry suddenly stepped into her orbit, catching her off guard. “Or what, your highness?” he asked, an edge to his words.  _ Tempting _ . 

“I have to get back to not being here,” she cleared her throat, moving ahead of Gendry and making her way out of the room without taking a second glance, “keep up or I’ll drop you like dead weight,” she warned, making sure her pace was hard to stay in time with. 

“Noted,” Gendry said, walking one perfect step behind her. She was thankful for that, because she smiled so wide, she had to bit her lip to stop the laugh she wanted to let out. Instead, she raised her chin and began walking a little faster to see if he could keep up. 

He could. And he did. 


	2. I Just Wanna Be In The Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big shoutout to @doesitsaysassonmyuniform for being my beta even when she had no time. bless   
> as always...micah....you're my main bitch who basically keeps the plot of this fic running. love ya boo

Arya jumped up onto the brick work, hands scraping at the edge and feet kicking until her sneakers caught on the right part, gripping and giving her leverage. One hard push, and she was able to sit up on the top, sighing as she caught her breath. Peering over the side, she saw that annoying sack of shit waiting there, smiling up at her as he waited. Gendry moved, taking off from the wall to give her a smug grin. 

“Fuck you,” Arya sighed, slipping down from the top of the wall, Gendry catching her by the waist so she didn’t have to struggle - just dangling from the edge, like a massive twat. She suspected that he was fully capable of doing that to her. He may have wanted to after the stunt she pulled by running off for the thirtieth time that month. 

_ Once a day, _ he said one time, _ like clockwork.  _

She didn’t know how, but he seemed to have mapped out all her possible exits, even the ones that Brienne knew nothing about, because at the end of each escape route, he stood there waiting. 

He seemed to have learnt everything within his first month. 

Six months in, he was being too diligent.

“Your highness, you should at least say where you’re going,” he said as she fought against his hands the second she hit the ground. Gendry looked different than normal - she hadn’t seen him that morning, as when he knocked on her bedroom door, she was already climbing out her window. He was wearing casual clothes, a dark flannel over his crisp white t-shirt, and dark jeans to match. He looked like he had when they first met - but she had become accustomed to seeing him in the suit and tie. 

“What’s the point in running away when you leave a note?” she pouted. Arya knew she may have sounded like a child, but more than anything, she wanted to get away from him and the castle. What was the point of her twenties if she was stuck at home with no fucking independence. 

“You know I could get fired for losing track of you.” They walked along the wall, but their pace was set by Gendry - a slow walk with little destination in mind. He held off on taking them anywhere.

Arya shrugged. “You’ll get moved to another job in the palace, don’t get so worked up.” 

“I like my job, m’lady, I’d like to keep it,” Gendry said, slowly putting his hands behind his back, letting them meet as they kept walking. 

“Don’t call me that.” Arya wanted to snap, but all she could do was let a sigh fall from her mouth. The same conversation, over and over, but he knew how it got her going. 

“Alright, private,” he smirked and Arya rolled her eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

Gendry laughed. “If you want to sneak out, you know you can take me with you,” he suggested and Arya scoffed, shaking her head. 

“Sorry, but I don’t think you’d like where I’m going,” she squared her shoulders, another thing she had become accustomed to - Gendry’s bold way of handling her. He didn’t treat her like a princess, just a girl with a sour attitude. He caught hold of her wrist and snatch her into his personal space. 

“And you think that means I’m allowed to let you go alone?” he said, trying his hardest to stare her down. It didn’t work. But the way his mouth curved....he knew he was going to get his way. She was going to give in...for the freedom. “So, where are we going?” he said letting her wrist go.

“Seven fucking hells,” Arya swore, striding ahead and making her way to the nearest fence. At least the climb over that wouldn’t be so hard - she had an accomplice this time. 

They had managed to make it to town before Arya and Gendry had said another word to each other. It wasn’t as though she was annoyed with him, but being the rebellious one, she was guarded more than she wished to be. Freedom always seemed somewhat out of reach, and that could have been her own fault, but she felt sheltered, kept from living a simpler life. 

Being held accountable for every action wasn’t her style. 

Being watched was also incredibly uncomfortable. 

But at least it was Gendry?

“Where’s the bloody clown suit?” Arya said, nudging Gendry with her hip. He remained silent before his shoulder slumped. 

“You always say I stick out like a fucking sore thumb when you end up in town, so I asked around, and got permission to wear my own clothes,” 

“You’re my secret body man?” she gasped and Gendry, for the first time since being on this job, rolled his eyes. 

“Be happy I’m letting you out of the goddamn grounds now,” he grumbled and Arya furrowed her brow, watching Gendry carefully. 

“Isn’t Brienne gonna be mad at you for this?” she asked. Gendry’s jaw set tight before he replied.

“Nope.” 

“No?” 

“She’s allowed this to happen.” 

Arya stopped and Gendry halted, looking back at her as she thought on what he said. “As long as you don’t lose me…” she said slowly, and Gendry took an uneasy step towards her, “this is your trial run.” Arya beamed as Gendry’s face dropped. She’d caught on quickly, and that wasn’t what he was expecting. Arya stepped back from him and he swiftly chased her step. 

“Your highness,” he warned, “don’t...you...dare…” 

Arya stood up straight, letting the mischievous grin fall, and a genuine smile take its place. “Why would I? I mean, hell it would be fun to see you searching the whole town, but this benefits me, remember? I’ll gladly suffer with your sorry arse today if I get to leave through the front door now and again,” she shrugged, taking them ahead, soon walking side by side, and the entire time. Arya felt determined for this day to go better than any other venture.

Towards the centre of the town she was used to roaming, they made their way into the park. On a bench, Arya sat patiently, watching the world go by as Gendry moved around her. He didn’t sit right away, and when he did, he placed himself on the grass. Before she’d even realised it, they had been there for over an hour, just taking in the day. No wonder Gendry was pacing for so long. Now laid back, arm over his eyes, Gendry relaxed there for a while before he gave a deep sigh. There was a thought that he shouldn’t really keep his eyes from her, but at a second glance, she saw him looking directly at her.

“Why didn’t we go anywhere?” Gendry asked, stretching out onto the grass. There were lies she was used to telling, explaining away her behaviour. It felt wrong to lie to him - he’d catch on and tell her to stop. Her family knew how to read her like he did, and she was scared she’d be called out like a fool. 

“I don’t like the castle,” she swallowed, watching as Gendry perked up from the ground and looked at her, “it’s so hollow. And quiet,” she said, jaw going tight. She felt an odd chill race over her chest, as though admitting the truth was far scarier than she anticipated. Gendry stared for a moment before he shot up from the ground and sat down next to her. 

Arya watched and waited for him to say something. “What’s the most random thing you’ve ever wanted to do?” 

Arya’s brow knit tight as she looked at him, the smile on his face spreading and she could tell he was serious. “What?” she laughed. 

“What’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to do? Whatever it is, we’ll do it,” he asked, giving a vague gesture to the world. Arya bit her lip, trying to contain the growing smile, but it wouldn’t let up, and she didn’t care. 

“Come on,” she said, snatching his wrist and guiding him where she wanted to go. 

 

~*~*~

 

Of all things, Gendry wasn’t quite expecting this. He stood, staring at the building with the budding suspicion that she was playing a trick on him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d done it. He looked down to the excited princess, her little bounces of joy were something new, but Gendry still had no idea what the fuck was going on. 

“Seriously?” he asked cautiously. 

“You said anything,” Arya said, bounding in front of him to pose, hands on hips and beaming smile. 

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes as Arya raced to a trolley, and they wound their way into Tesco. When he asked, he kind of imagined Arya picking bungee jumping, or driving a motorbike. This was...weirdly ordinary. If he thought about it, he should have considered it - all Arya ever did was totally ordinary - she never tried to be overtly rebellious 

She was sheltered, and she just wanted to do things like everyone else. 

It made sense why their first night together was as flirtatious as it was - she was trying to experience something she may not have before. 

He wondered if she indulged in dwelling on that night like he did. He was hopelessly following her, but there was something deep within him that couldn’t care. 

Arya, originally, was walking beside him as they started in the bread aisle. But soon, her fascination with everything became too overwhelming, and she raced off, grabbing everything on the shelves she thought she’d like. Gendry felt like a weird parent, but was unable to stop their rowdy kid. 

“What’s this?” she asked, grabbing hold of something covered in chocolate. As far as he knew, she had no allergies - so, he shrugged. 

“Chocolate stuff.” 

“Let’s get it,” she said, tossing three in the trolley. 

“Ok.” 

“And this?” she asked again, shoving something in his hands. He read over the cover, inspecting the back and tossing it back to her. 

“It’s kinda fruity?” 

“Cool!” Arya threw it down into the cart, continuing down the aisle and into the next, finding the next thing that caught her fancy. 

“An-”

“It’s a Japanese soda thing, I’ve never tried it,” he answered before she could ask. Going to the shelf, she stuffed more into the cart, making sure to get everything she wanted.

“We’re getting two!” 

“Your dad needs to pay me more,” Gendry murmured to himself, leaning down on the handles, chin bouncing as the wheels jiggled against the ground. Even when the total for the entire trip was something absolutely ridiculous, Gendry forgot to care about how much money he was spending - Arya was so fucking happy, it made him want to buy her the entire store so she’d never have to leave.

He knew Arya would give him the money back - they had been on a few outings where he’d paid out of pocket, only for the money to come in on his next paycheck. It was usually marked under ‘Arya expenses’, and it always made him laugh. Either way, if he was helping her fulfill her most odd request, then he didn’t care. 

They returned to the park, setting up on the grass once more and their haul spread out in front of them. Arya picked out a few sweets, taste testing and having a save and bin pile. She was getting through a majority of it as Gendry watched. Midway through her cull of the food, she picked up a drink and gave it to him. Mr Brown Iced Coffee. Arya shoved it towards him, and he rolled his eyes, taking it from her and cracking it open. 

If asked what was the worst experience of Gendry’s life, he would have said when he was eighteen and went to a party where he drank too much, fell off a roof naked and managed to break his leg in front of the girl he liked. 

But that was until he drank the horseshit he just had. He spat is across the grass, choking and spitting every chance he could. 

“What the fuck did you make me drink!” he snapped, shoving it back to Arya who cackled like a maniac. Arya was slapping at his thigh, choking on her food as she lost her breath and laughed harder than he had ever heard her before. “This actually tastes like cigarettes,” he exclaimed, the saturating aftertaste tainted on his tongue. 

“Have this,” Arya said between breaths, handing him something he knew and he immediately devoured it. For a moment, he tasted freedom, only for it to be swept away and replaced with the reteched taste of cigarettes once more. 

“Everything is tainted now. I will never be the same,” he said, coughing and teeth scraping against his tongue to see if it helped. 

“I’m sorry,” she tried not to smile, but the snicker she had proved she couldn’t handle herself. 

“Fuck. Never get that. Ban that immediately,” he cursed, kicking the can away from them. 

“I’m bring it up with Government right away,” Arya laughed. 

Gendry liked hearing her laugh. 

~*~*~

 

Arya had dragged Gendry through the Tesco, and even made him drink the iced coffee that apparently ruined a person’s life, but she felt content with her day. It felt ordinary - simply a wonderful day out without having to be told to smile every two seconds. She did it all on her own. Or maybe Gendry helped.

She wondered if he ever thought back to the night they met, the bar and alcohol getting to them. Wondered if he thought about whether or not they were actually going to kiss, and if Gendry thought about her lips like she sometimes caught herself doing about his. With him sprawled out across the grass, his shirt pulling up from his waist to show off the slow trail of hair leading down underneath his belt - she would have experienced him fully if it hadn’t been for her mother. 

But that was long since gone. 

He was a temptation for sure, but she wasn’t allowed to indulge no matter how much she wanted to. Instead, she kept those thoughts to herself, letting herself dream - to wonder how far up his chest the hair scattered or was he completely bare? 

Before her thoughts could take shape and mould to every corner of her mind, Gendry sat up, sitting cross legged and got into Arya’s space. 

“What else did you wanna do?” 

“Can I see your apartment?” she asked, the moment the words left her mouth, she cursed the unbelievable reaction her horny mind took hold of. She knew she could play it off, but she also knew where the question originated from. 

“My apartment?” he asked, a crinkle in the bridge of his nose. Clearing her throat, she reclined back, extending her arms behind her. 

“Yeah! I wanna see where you live. Gotta be nicer than mine,” she said, regretting the phrase. 

“You’re kidding right?” he scoffed.

“I mean, it’d feel like a home more than my house does,” Arya played off. Gendry seemed to wait a moment, looking up to the sky, the clouds darkening and rumbling with an on coming downpour. 

“Fine, but only for a few minutes,” he said, gathering up all their things, piling them into their bags and Arya jumped up.

“Yes!” 

Arya helped Gendry throw out their rubbish, walking just a step behind him as he guided them through the town. It was strange to be the one behind - Arya always led the way, Gendry always happy to follow just one step behind. 

Then, as quickly as they had started walking, the sky ripped open, pouring out all the water that it had gathered and saturated everyone within moments of it’s first rumble. Arya sputtered water out of her face, trying to keep up with Gendry as his shoulder scrunched up towards his ears. 

“Why are we walking in the rain?” Arya complained. 

“Cause you decided you wanted to walk to the town, when my car is at the palace,” he snapped back to her. 

“You’re giving me clothes when we get to yours,” she yelled over the beating rain and Gendry stopped mid step to look at her. They both seemed irritated at by the situation, but as they faced each other...something softened within them both. Anger dissipated, and warmth was all they wanted. 

“Whatever, just hurry up,” he said, catching her wrist and dragging her down another street. He started to dash with her in toe, and there was something... _ fun _ about it all. He made her feel like she was on a true adventure that she’d never experienced - the simplicity of young romance, caught in the rain, only to wrap up in each other when the rain poured on outside. Arya knew she wouldn’t get that, but the lead up was one hell of an exploit and she loved it whilst it lasted. 

They made it to a block of apartments, Gendry buzzing them in and shaking himself off once inside the lobby. He was almost like a dog, shedding the water from its coat, but she’d never voice that to him. Arya thought he might take offense to that. Making their way up a few floors, Gendry rustled around his jeans for his keys and opened the door. 

With the lights turned on, Gendry shut the door behind them, both shivering as the downpour finally started to freeze them both. 

“Wait here, I’ll get you a towel and some dry clothes,” he cleared his throat, walking down the hall, turning on more lights as he walked off. 

“Thanks,” Arya called, not even listening to his request and wandering further into his apartment. It was a lot nicer than she expected. It was pristine white, furniture neatly placed around the TV, his kitchen was even big. In all - his apartment seemed huge, winding in different areas. But she suspected that he wasn’t living alone, his rent must have been high with how new and fancy it all seemed. 

Arya was used to old and fancy shit. New and fancy was good. 

She was excited when she saw his TV, not terribly big, but Arya didn’t mind. She jumped over the couch and sat on one of the throw blankets. She switched on the TV, letting herself relax and wait for Gendry. She flipped through channels, some shows about baking, others with political dramas or crime TV, others reality shows. She watched one of the crime shows, noticing that it took awhile for Gendry to come back out. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, finally coming back in with a pile of things in his arms. 

“I’ve never got to have one of these days. Just coming home, all bundled up in blankets and watching TV,” she said, pulling her legs up onto the couch for Gendry to sneak by and take a seat at the other end of the chair. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a TV in her own home, but there was something about how small the space was - not everything had to be a movie theatre. Even the TV in her own room made her feel like she couldn’t engage. This home felt warm and comforting. 

“How mundane do you want your life to be?” he laughed, settling into the cushions of the couch. Gendry was now dressed in tracksuit pants and a tank top and soft varsity jacket. He looked good. 

“Look, a castle isn’t a home. This is a home. It’s comfortable,” she said, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. Some of the remaining water splashed against Gendry’s face and he scoffed, wiping it away and tossing her the things in his hands. 

“Here, you can have these,” he groaned, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Are you dressing me in some clothes from a one night stand?” 

“They’re mine,  _ princess _ , I just don’t fit in ‘em anymore,” he replied, a quirk in his brow as he held back on the question.  _ Why should it matter?  _

Swallowing it away, Arya stood and went off to the hall, trying to navigate her way through his apartment without snooping through his shit. Instead, she found his bedroom - or the room she thought was his - and locked the door behind her. Running the towel over her hair, she wrapped it up as she stripped free of her watery clothes. Putting on Gendry’s old clothes was a little more difficult than she thought - his shirt hung over her like a dress, and the tracksuit pants didn’t stay up on their own. In the end, she rolled up the waistband as thick as she could, which helped with the dragging problem. The shirt, on the other hand, was something she couldn’t do much about other than tuck it into her new waistband. In the corner of the room, she saw Gendry’s clothes drying by a heater, and decided to leave her wet things with his. 

Walking out into the living room again, trying to dry her hair again. Gendry looked over the back of the couch and scoffed. “Great look, princess.” 

“Shut up,” she whipped her towel at him as she climbed over the back of the couch again. Gendry laughed as he caught the towel and the two of them relaxed, watching whatever shows came on that they both seemed to enjoy. 

Through their casual conversation, ordering in dinner and lounging in his living room, she learnt that he lived alone. He had a roommate over a year back, but they left for a job out of the country. He said the rent was high, as she suspected, but the job with the palace kept him with enough money to get by easily. His mum would come and visit occasionally, but it was a rare occurrence now that he worked for the palace. 

Eventually, they landed on the topic of the royals and how he got involved with being a security guy when he didn’t seem all that interested in it to begin with. Turns out, Jon offered it to him, but Gendry had no idea who any of the royals were. 

“So what? You didn’t know I was a princess because you didn’t read the news?” Arya said, trying not to do another spit take when Gendry nodded, “and your best friend from university was who again?” Gendry laughed as he set his beer onto the coffee table.

“Jon is a private guy! I knew he was royal and shit, but I didn’t think it was my place to ask ‘hey why the fuck you living with your cousins’, so I never did,” Gendry shrugged as he started to go at his pizza again.

Arya shook her head. “You are a strange guy.”

“You’re one to talk,” Gendry mumbled with a mouthful of food. Arya laughed and he did too, the TV the only other sound whilst they ate. It occurred to her later in the night that she was waiting for the rain to let up to finally head home, but the comfort of his home was lovely...and the rain hadn’t stopped. So, she stayed. 

“We should head back soon,” Gendry said as an episode of Star Trek finished. Arya had been invested in the campiness of it, thrilled with how weird and bizarre it all was. Reaching over Gendry, she snatched the remote and kept the channel running. 

“Oh no, would you look at that,” she exaggerated, smacking a pillow against Gendry to keep him at bay. He huffed, settling back into his spot.

“You know we’re going to get in trouble and you’re never going to be allowed out again.” 

“Yeah yeah, like that’s stopped me before,” Arya said, pulling her knees up onto the couch and sitting back on her heels. 

“One more episode, princess, that’s it,” he sighed. 

Midway through the episode, Arya’s phone buzzed. Taking it from her pocket, she noticed that Sansa had sent her a snapchat, as well as the fact that her phone was dying soon. She looked around to find Gendry’s charger, noticing it next to the TV set. She’d charge it after she saw what Sansa was sending her. 

A video was sent and Arya could feel Gendry looking over her shoulder as she pressed the screen. Sansa was in the middle of Arya’s room, running around.  _ ‘Bitch where are you? I came to annoy you, but you aren’t hereeeeee! Why don’t you clean your fucking room?’  _ She complained and laughed as she collapsed down onto Arya’s bed. 

Immediately, Arya sent back a quick video.  _ ‘Get out of my room, fuckface!’  _

Sending it through, she could still feel Gendry looking at her. Glancing his way, his grin widened. “Wow, sisterly love.” 

“It’s love, bitch,” she said, giving an obnoxious pout before she giggled - her cheeks were red hot and she felt slightly embarrassed, “sorry, Sansa brings this out in me,” she explained. 

“It’s fun,” Gendry shrugged. 

“Wait, do you follow this twitter account?” she asked, shifting closer to Gendry and showing off a royal family meme account and some of their tweets. Gendry gave a slow nod. 

“Yeah, they post some pretty funny things about you guys,” he said, as Arya beamed back at him. His jaw went slack as she showed him the profile more clearly, “no way! It’s you!” he asked. Arya nodded back excitedly. 

“Oh hell yeah, the entire family knows about it and we send around a group chat for new shit to post,” she explained. Gendry sat in bewilderment for a moment before he sighed. 

“The royal family, the original shitposters,” Gendry proclaimed and Arya laughed, sending the phrase out to the family group chat. 

Somewhere during the night, she had drifted to sleep, clinging onto something for comfort. It wasn’t until it moved that Arya realised it was Gendry, and he had let her practically fall asleep against him. Still, she didn’t want to move.

“Hey, princess, let’s get back,” he whispered. 

“Comfy,” she complained, snuggling up against him again. Gendry laughed. 

“Thanks, but you falling asleep on me isn’t ideal.”

“I think it’s ideal.”

“Yeah, only ‘cause you’re getting to go to sleep,” he scoffed. 

“I’d love to sleep with you.” The words slipped out, no filter to keep them contained, and she looked up at the man, shock and confusion written into his features, but she waited. To see if he would do something. 

“Princess,” he whispered, his hand running up her cheek. It was bigger than she thought his hand would be, rough and calloused in different parts of his palm. Arya could barely keep her eyes open, but what she could see was Gendry moving towards her, breath heavy against her. 

Her heart was pounding, wondering if his lips would dare to touch hers. He was inches from her lips, and her her felt up his chest, pulling lightly on his shirt.  _ Have at it, _ she thought, _ dare to kiss me _ . She’d happily wake up for him to kiss her, to tempt her back to the land of the living. But soon, his breath stilled, and his hand slipped from her face, the space between them filled once more with cold air. “Come here,” he murmured, pulling her legs into his lap. 

“Hmm,” she huffed as he stood, her arms instinctively going around his neck and head falling to his shoulder. 

Arya was so tired, she barely registered what was going on, but she felt the comfort of a bed embrace her, tucked into blankets to wrapped her in warmth and the pitter-patter of rain against a window. 

Sleep came so easily, she hardly registered that it had come at all until morning peered through the window and she felt more well rested than any day in the palace. Crawling out of bed, Arya shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and scratching at her hair. To her surprise, she found Gendry in the kitchen, wearing his tank top...and only his boxers.

“So, is this normal Gendry Waters attire?” she asked, and Gendry nearly collapsed to the floor, looked back at her with wild eyes. 

“Why the fuck are you so silent?” he asked with a strangled breath. 

“Small, I guess,” she shrugged, sitting at the breakfast table. 

“French toast?” he offered, extending a plate to her.

“Wow, really?” 

“I’ve had to learn,” he replied, “Want some or not?” 

“Yes please,” she beamed, and Gendry handed her the ready plate. 

After Gendry was finished making his own, they sat down across from each other and ate their breakfast. Arya remembered how the night ended, the missed opportunity, the silent way they both leaned in and waited for the other to break. She took tentative bites, waiting for him to say something, to make sure they were on the same page - but there was something between them that prevented the next step, more than the first night they met. 

Arya was hot blooded, she wanted him, and she knew more than anything that she’d want him. But the tension that she was feeling had to be ignored, she couldn’t risk….

Risk? She thought. Risk was something she never truly thought of. Then, he walked in, making things hard. Making her attraction to him the hardest damn thing to understand and deal with. All because she couldn’t act on it - she couldn’t reach over the table and sit in his lap, take him exactly like she wanted. 

She was stuck with the feeling of ready to pounce, her prey right in front of her, but there was a tether keeping her from jumping. 

And Arya hated it. 

“Did you leave your phone out here all night?” Gendry asked, pointing over her shoulder. She noticed her phone lit up, only for it to fade to black again. 

“I think so? I left it to charge,” she said, letting her knife and fork clatter to the plate and go to her phone. Unplugging it, she went through all the notifications, only to feel her blood run cold. “Oh shit,” she swore. “Oh, holy fuck.” 

Gendry stood quickly, almost making it to Arya’s side. “The last time you said that -” 

“My mother called. She’s been worried where I am. And why I’m not back,” she sighed before looking up at Gendry, his hand running over his face.

“Fuck,” he swore back at her. 

“Ok, we’re running back to the palace right?” she asked. Gendry went tight lipped, nodding with a grimace on his face. 

“I don’t have my fucking car, so yeah,” he nodded. 

“Get dressed,” she snapped, both of them racing off to his room and tossing each other clothes. 

Grabbing everything they knew they needed, they raced to the palace. At one stage, they completely lost sight of each other, the race there more important than keeping track. Well, for Arya anyway. She didn’t see him for a while, but she thought he may have kept track of her. 

They made it back to the palace by 8am, no one seemingly moving inside. Both of them were out of breath, their clothes a mess, and they didn’t smell too fresh either. They stood in the foyer, catching much needed breaths and dusting themselves off. 

“Arya!” A deep voice called out. Arya spun to it, and smiled wide. 

“Dad! Hey,” she exclaimed as he raced down the stairs to greet her. In a moment, he had picked her up from the ground, cuddled close in a bear hug as Arya tried to reciprocate the same tough arms, to no avail. 

Setting her back on the ground, he let his hand rest on her cheek before sliding to her shoulder. “Your mother has been worried,” he warned her, before glancing to Arya’s side, noticing Gendry. “I’ll let her know you were sleeping in that spot again,” 

“Thank you,” 

“So, is this your new boyfriend?” he asked, extending his hand to Gendry, “Nice to meet you.” 

Gendry stepped forward, tentatively taking Ned’s hand. “No, sir, no I’m...no, n-no,” he stuttered for the first time since Arya met him, and she couldn’t help it - she burst into laughter, “please stop laughing,” Gendry whispered through gritted teeth. 

“Arya?” Ned asked, but she could barely stop to breath, let alone answer what was happening. She looked to Gendry, who was now growing a deep shade of red, and her laughter became uncontrollable. 

“Sir, it’s not - I’m not!” Gendry tried, but the words were failing him as much as they were for her. 

“He’s -” she couldn’t stop, she was on her knees, hand covering her face as the roaring laughter left her body. 

“Really? This is funny to you?” Gendry asked, and Arya held up a finger, trying her hardest to regain some resemblance of composure, but his face was still so fucking red, she couldn’t help it.

“Gendry!” Another voice called, and Arya, from her position on the floor, saw Brienne racing over, meeting at the King’s side. “Sir, this is the new security guard for Arya,” she introduced, Arya completely on the ground, looking up as her laughter took over her. 

“Oh, excuse me. A pleasure to meet you,” Ned apologised, shaking Gendry’s hand a little harder than before, clapping his shoulder in the process.

“You too, your majesty,” Gendry cleared his throat. 

Brienne cleared her throat beside the King, showing him her watch and he sighed. “I have to go,” he shrugged, looking down at Arya, who had finally stopped laughed, still holding her stomach, “you should probably get her off the floor before she causes a scene,” he said. As he walked off, Gendry bent to Arya, picking her up and getting her back to her feet. 

“This is the worst day of my life,” he whispered to himself. 

“You froze up like a goddamn icicle,” Arya cackled, watching Gendry walk up the mountain of stairs in front of them.

“Fuck off.” 

Arya gasped, catching up and poking Gendry in the side. “You can’t talk to me like that.” 

“Watch me.” 

“Icicle.” They looked at each other for a moment as they walked before Arya started to roar with laughter again. “You whole face is red! I can’t breathe!” She called out, holding onto the railing as Gendry huffed and continued on his way. 

 

~*~*~

 

Ned walked in step with Brienne, heading to his office for a conference call with Robert Baratheon. The silence between them was irritating him, so he gestured for her to spit it out. “Your Majesty, why did you do that? You hand picked him for this new security job,” she asked, and Ned smiled to himself. 

“I like hearing her laugh,” he chuckled softly. “Plus, his face was funny. Did you see how red he got? Like a bloody strawberry,” he exclaimed, clapping to himself as he gave another hearty laugh. 

“But Your Majesty, you must know that they only just returned, they left yesterday morning. Should he be punished?” she said, and Ned paused, turning to the head of security. He furrowed his brow as he thought about it, and smiled softly.

“He brought her back in one piece. No injury, no harm. If he tried anything, I suspect Arya would have broken his nose, and he’s far too nervous to even successfully get himself into trouble. Leave them be,” he said, and Brienne nodded, smiling at the request. They continued to his office and at the door, he stopped himself, checking back with the security officer. “And let Arya leave the grounds. I’m sick of her trying to rebel. Maybe this way, she’ll feel freedom and use her title to put some good into the world. I know she can,” he shrugged, and Brienne smiled again. 

“Yes, sir.” 

 

~*~*~

 

Two days had passed since the run in with Arya’s father. They got word later that day that Arya was allowed out of the castle, to go around the local village however she liked, as long as Gendry was by her side. She didn’t mind that. The village already knew who she was, and they mostly kept things low key about her - never allowing paparazzi and things around when she was visiting, and making sure she had her privacy. It was one of the reasons Arya liked going to it - no one wanted to pry in her business.

Yet, on this day, she was stuck in her room, staring at a dress that she didn’t want to wear. There was a gala coming up, many lords and ladies were coming, to raise money for charities, but mostly to dress up. Arya chewed on her thumbnail, knowing she couldn’t get out of this, and she had to wear the fucking mess of a dress. It was her own secret punishment for spending the entire day out of the castle. Go to the gala...or never be allowed out again. She chose the former, for her mother. 

The dress her mother picked out hung on display in Arya’s walk in wardrobe, pressed up against the mirror. It was a bundle of tulle, layer upon layer with the bodice lined with a tree branch design and beading. It was a mix of blue, lavender, black and champagne coloured tulle, wrapping around to make the bodice and straps until it reached the waist and became an overflowing creation. 

It would have looked beautiful on anyone. 

Except Arya. 

She suspected her mother chose it because black was always a safe colour to put Arya in. But, with how heavy it all looked, Arya had a suspicion that she’d look like a doll that didn’t quite fit into the clothes. 

The dress mocked her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. If she weren’t afraid to look like an idiot, she’d fight the damn thing. In the end, she’d lose and look like an moron wearing the thing anyway. 

So, instead, she stared, wondering if her gaze would burn holes in the fabric and it’d mean she didn’t have to attend the stupid gala. 

A knock came to the door of her wardrobe, and she turned to see Gendry. He was dressed in a suit like he had been for the last several months. And to think, she was getting used to seeing him in his normal clothes, and it had only been a few days. 

“Penguin suit again, I see,” she said, turning back to the dress. 

“I’m off your assignment for the day. Going on Jon’s detail,” he explained, standing beside her, looking at the dress. 

“He’s not as fun as me, though,” she bat her eyelashes at him, and he turned to her, barely giving her any emotion. 

Gendry shrugged. “I’ll tell you after.” 

“Rude,” she sneered, “what am I meant to be doing today?” she asked.

“Try not to freak out Podrick? I don’t know, go see your mum or something,” he replied.

“I’ll give the guy a break, I promise.” 

“What’s with the dress, your highness,” he asked, and something brewed in her chest, and she couldn’t stop the frustration billowing out as it did. 

“God, I hate you calling me that.” 

“I have to address you like that,” Gendry scoffed. 

“Can you just call me Arya! It isn’t that hard,” she huffed, leaning against of the closet doors. Gendry suddenly turned to her, stepping in towards her abruptly, catching her off guard.

“Every other security person calls you ‘your highness’, why am I different?” he asked, and Arya swallowed hard. 

“It’s for a gala. My whole family is going. I have to look...pretty,” she pointed to the dress, turning back to it as to not face him. She was glad her hair was covering her face, because she knew her face was going pink. 

“Not like it’d be very hard,” he replied, and Arya’s jaw went tight, biting at the inside of her lip. “I’m off, just came by to tell you I’m with Jon today,” he explained, turning and heading out of her wardrobe. 

“See you around, _ major cunt _ ,” she called over her shoulder.

“And they call you a princess,” he laughed towards the door of her room. Arya turned back to the door, wondering if he had truly left, or if she could see him one last time that day. Instead, she turned back to the dress. 

 

~*~*~

 

Gendry knocked at Robb’s bedroom door, opening it when he heard the faint ‘come in’ voice from the other side. Jon and Robb sat on a pair of chairs, watching something on a TV set. Gendry walked in, giving a soft bow to Robb. “Your Highness,” he greeted, then looked towards his university friend, and gave a smug smile. “Jon.” 

“Fuck you,” Jon spat, standing and embracing Gendry tightly. 

“Just having a little fun,” he said, standing at arm's length and noticing that the two men didn’t look like they were going anywhere important, “can I ask why I was requested today?” 

“We wanted to give you a break,” Robb said, Jon moved around and gestured for Gendry to take his seat. 

“From  _ what _ ?” Gendry laughed, moving slowly towards Jon.

“We’re sorry you’re stuck with this duty, Gendry,” Jon said, clapping his shoulder, knocking Gendry slightly off balance. Gendry took the chair and sat down across from the next in line. 

“We know Arya can be a handful,” Robb said, as though he were apologising.

“She’s easy to manage,” Gendry played off. 

“Are you serious? Our sister is the most wild person on the planet. Reining her in is impossible,” Jon recounted. 

“I think you just have to find the right way to handle her,” Gendry gave a vague hand gesture. He felt cornered by the two men, both looking towards each other with a grimace on their faces. 

“The way you’re talking sounds so wrong, Waters,” Robb groaned. Jon smacked his shoulder. 

“Like he wants to handle her, right?” Jon said, raising his brow. 

“Dude...that’s your sister,” Gendry scoffed, “how are you guys royalty? Fucking disgusting, the both of you.” And as the two laughed, Gendry did too. He definitely thought they had seen how he felt for their sister. 

“Come on, it’s a day off. We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got suit fittings and shit, and we need an extra for footy later. You in?” Robb explained, waiting for Gendry to say anything. 

“Sure,” he smiled, unbuttoning his suit jacket, “but I’ll kick your ass, I don’t give a shit if you’re next in line for the throne,” he joked, standing up next to Jon. 

“Nice try, Robb will knock your ass to the ground before you get a shot at him,” Jon said, clapping Gendry’s shoulder again. 

“Wish you lot had told me I wasn’t going to be on a real security detail, I wouldn’t have worn my suit,” Gendry complained and Robb shook his head. 

“We’ll give you something, don’t worry.” 

 

~*~*~

 

Catelyn Stark was a hard woman to negotiate with. Arya knew she got her stubbornness from her mother, but arguing with her was like facing a wall that would collapse on you at any moment. Arya stood no chance when she was shoved into the bathroom and told to strip down and put on the dress. The unfortunate thing about the dress was that where the straps went down, it left her backless, reaching her waist where the tulle skirt started. Which also meant, in her mother’s eyes - she had to be proper. No bra, but she had to wear one. So she wore one of those stick on bras. 

It wasn’t like Arya needed it, she wasn’t exactly voluptuous by any means, but for propriety's sake, it kept Arya  _ decent _ . Walking back out with the mountain of tulle in hand, to stop herself from tripping, she stepped up on a box for the seamstress to analyse Arya in front of three mirrors. Arya’s room became a fashion show, and she detested it. 

“You can leave for this, Podrick,” Catelyn said, gesturing for Podrick to leave. He smiled to Arya, giving her a thumbs up and she giggled. As much as she loved running away from the guy, Pod was nice, and he cared about her family. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, bowing and leaving the room once more. The seamstress started to take notes on length, mentioning that she was leaving the back with length to give Arya a train, and the idea of it made Arya roll her eyes. She also notes that the waist would need to be taken in. 

“You didn’t have to be here for this, mum,” Arya complained, hearing the undeniable sound of a snapshot, and darting her gaze to her bed, “and neither do you,  _ your highness _ .” Arya poked her tongue out at her sister. 

“But you look so pretty,” she beamed, taking another photo.  

“If I find that on the internet, I’m killing you,” Arya warned and Sansa raised her hands, reclining back into the bed, lounging across and making faces towards Arya. When Arya was young, she and Sansa never got on. But when the teenage years had faded, the two sisters became playful and Arya was able to joke around with her sister as much as had her brothers. Sansa, to the general public, was the sweetest and most innocent woman. But Arya knew her sister, the weirdo that found memes almost as well as Arya. 

“Arya, watch your tongue,” Catelyn warned. 

“Sorry.” 

“I think if we adjust the straps here -” Catelyn started to instruct the seamstress, pulling the straps down at the back, and fitting it closer to Arya’s chest, “perfect,” she exclaimed. 

“I’ll make note of the measurements, your majesty,” the seamstress replied. 

“Sansa, we need to make sure the length on yours is correct, come along,” Catelyn said, talking to the seamstress about Sansa’s gown and the alterations they were considering making. Sansa stood up from the bed, dusting herself off and dancing her way over to Arya. She giggled as she watched her sister shimmy her way towards her. Sansa caught Arya at the waist and smiled up to her. 

“You do look nice. It definitely suits you,” Sansa whispered, kissing Arya’s cheek. 

“Thanks,” Arya whispered back to her sister. 

“Be careful with the zipper, Arya, it sticks,” Catelyn warned and Arya huffed, trying to reach around the bundles of tulle to get to the zipper. But she failed, and was stuck staring at her reflection. 

Arya kept fiddling at her waist, the band sitting in a position she wasn’t used to. She felt like she needed to move it down towards her hips, stop having it be up so high, but that wasn’t how dresses worked, she reminded herself. Letting out a long huff, she stared in the mirror, looking at the way the dress fell and knowing for certain, the girl staring back wasn’t her. 

It may have looked like her, but she wasn’t comfortable like Arya was, nor dressed like Arya did. A dress wearing Arya, wasn’t Arya. 

Yet, for a split second, when she pushed hair behind her ear, looking at her reflection, she wondered - would someone think she was beautiful? Would he spot her and smile, think she would make the room glow. 

Would Gendry tell her that? 

Would she finally feel…

No. That was a ridiculous thought. Dresses weren’t her. She hated them, and she hated having to dress like a lady when that wasn’t what she felt like. She was a woman, but she wasn’t built for the finer things - she liked mud, and blood, and getting her hands dirty. 

She wasn’t beautiful. 

Even if for a split second, she thought she was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all looks for the dress cause i got you guyssss  
> [look 1](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/26ae8c/1073180674/il_794xN.1073180674_b1bl.jpg)   
> [look 2](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/a9e488/1073180790/il_794xN.1073180790_kf25.jpg)   
> [look 3](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/ea5e71/1073180510/il_794xN.1073180510_lt6n.jpg)   
> [look 4](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/5af781/1073180630/il_794xN.1073180630_9zfg.jpg)


	3. 2.5 Social Media is a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Social Media break down of the royal family of Winterfell

**Arya ‘Not Today’ Stark** @AryaStark:

Duality of man

**I’m The Cold One @** JonSnow:

@AryaStark pls stop sharing pictures of me and my sister

 **Sansa Stark of Winterfell** @PrincessSansa:

@JonSnow @AryaStark what sister??? 🤔🤔🤔

 **@** JonSnow: @AryaStark @PrincessSansa just admit it, you think I’m cute with blonde hair

@AryaStark: @JonSnow @PrincessSansa it’s the tits

~

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

 **10:43am - Sansa:** It’s definitely the tits

 **10:43am - Arya:** called it

 **10:44am - Jon:** I have lovely tits

 **10:44am - Bran:** yes you do

 **10:45am - Rickon:** tell us your secret

 **10:45am - Robb:** pls brother...let us know

 **11:32am - Davos:** I was added to this group chat to keep you kids in line, but I can tell you right now...I really wish I wasn’t in this chat

 **12:02pm - Sansa:** luv ya Dadvos

 **12:02pm - Sansa:** *Davos

 **12:02pm - Sansa:** who am I kidding, i meant dadvos

 **12:05pm - Robb:** love our second dad

 **12:05pm - Rickon:** we always wanted three parents

 **12:06pm - Jon:** will you tuck me in at night?

 **12:07pm - Arya** : read me a bedtime story?

 **12:08pm - Bran:** can you help me put on my shoessssssss

 **12:10pm - Davos:** Please remove me from this chat

 

~

 

 **Sansa Stark of Winterfell** @PrincessSansa:

this is what dad looks like when he’s lecturing Jon

@AryaStark: @PrincessSansa now Jon….we’ve talked about the mustache

@JonSnow: @PrincessSansa @AryaStark please leave me alone

 

~

 

 **The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: sometimes….it be like that

@RealBranStark: @TheRoyalMemeFamily #StarkSistersAreThoseBitches #RealityIsTheBest

  
~

 **Sansa Stark of Winterfell** @PrincessSansa:

Arya has been defeated she’s in a dress but hasn’t complained about something once we’ve broken her

JonSnow: @PrincessSansa press f for respect

RobbWinterfell: @PrincessSansa press f for respect

RealBranStark: @PrincessSansa press f for respect

RickonStark: @PrincessSansa press f for respect

GendryWaters: @PrincessSansa press f for respect

AryaStark:

PrincessSansa: @AryaStark post the picsssssssss

AryaStark: @PrincessSansa

PrincessSansa: @AryaStark we get it, i’m beautiful. Picssssssss

 **Arya ‘Not Today’ Stark @** AryaStark: when u dress up nice and feel good for once but ur siblings wont stop tweeting memes about u

  
~

 **The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: How’d this bitch get the bluest eyes in the family?? Tell us your fucking secret @RobbWinterfell!

RobbWinterfell: @TheRoyalMemeFamily It’s the winterfell gaze. Only the next in line can have them

 

~

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

 **4:13pm - Jon:** Can you guys stop taking pictures of my dog and saying I don’t love him online

 **4:14pm - Arya:** YOU DONT LOVE HIM! YOU NEVER HAVE!

 **4:14pm - Arya:** ONLY WE LOVE HIM

 **4:15pm - Robb:** He’s the family dog, don’t hog him

 **4:16pm - Jon:** guys I literally bought him

 **4:16pm - Jon:** the adoption papers are in my name

 **4:17pm - Sansa:** but the love isn’t in your heart

 **4:18pm - Rickon:** lawyer up bitch

 **4:19pm - Bra:** jon technically the public bought Ghost you bough him with your wage which came from their taxes

 **4:20pm - Robb:** jon hes the peoples dog

 **4:21pm - Sansa:** NATIONAL DOG OF THE NORTH   

 **4:22pm - Sansa:** HES LITERALLY THE KINGDOMS MASCOT UR DENYING THE PEOPLE THEIR COUNTRY’S MASCOT

 **4:23pm - Arya:** KING DOG

 **4:23pm - Robb:** KING DOG

 **4:23pm - Bran:** KING DOG

 **4:23pm - Rickon:** KING DOG

 **4:23pm - Sansa:** KING DOG

 **4:25pm - Davos:** please remove me from the chat, i don’t know how

*Arya changed Davos’ name to ‘Dadvos’*

~

 **I’m the Three Eyed Raven Bitch** @RealBranStark: you think i can get away with having this name for very long?

 **@** AryaStark: @RealBranStark you’re dead meat, son

@KingDog: **@** AryaStark @RealBranStark Bork

~

 **Brandon Stark @RealBranStark:** This is what I get for interacting with the black wolf of the family

 **@** AryaStark: @RealBranStark sucks, don’t it?

@KingDog: **@** AryaStark @RealBranStark Bork Bork

  
  
~

 **Arya ‘Not Today’ Stark @** AryaStark: My sister is teasing me about a crush….you know what it’s time for

PrincessSansa: @AryaStark I literally look like a vampire

AryaStark: @PrincessSansa u suck the life out of me, so it’s accurate at least

  
~

 

 **The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: so we gonna collectively ignore the fact that @RobbWinterfell is put on the top 100 people’s list this year purely ‘cause he’s hot?? We just doing that now?

RobbWinterfell: @TheRoyalMemeFamily the people have spoken. #TheFutureKingIsHot

  
~

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

 **6:39pm - Dadvos:** Firstly, Please change the name of this group

 **6:39pm - Dadvos:** Secondly, please stop interacting with the twitter account ‘TheRoyalMemeFamily’. You all think it may be funny, but as your PR representative, it is my duty to stop you all from bringing too much negative attention to yourselves. That goes especially to you, Robb.

 **7:01pm - Sansa:** F

 **7:02pm - Bran:** F

 **7:02pm - Arya:** F

 **7:05pm - Jon:** F

 **7:05pm - Rickon:** F

 **7:10pm - Dadvos:** Please don’t Robb

 **7:10pm - Sansa:** DO IT!

 **7:10pm - Arya:** COME ON! ROBB!!!!! GROW A PAIR!!!

 **7:11pm - Bran:** ROBB! ROBB! ROBB!

 **7:30pm - Robb:** F

 **7:31pm - Dadvos:** Please, I don’t know what this means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the image of sansa saying 'i will kill you with my bare hands' is from chryswatchesgot on tumblr


	4. Don't Kill My Vibe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would be sorry....but i'm not  
> Edit: i am so blown away by the response of this chapter. I probably got a lot of readers for 2.5 and i get it. but you've all responded so well to this chapter and it makes me so happy to be writing for this pairing finally. you all have made me so incredibly proud to be writing this fic. thank you.

Gendry was used to waking up early. He was used to getting up at 5am, suffering until his coffee came and woke him up. It was part of his routine. When 5:45am came, he went to the palace, clocked in and made sure he took over the surveillance of Arya. They knew she was in her room, and she usually slept in until eleven, which sometimes gave Gendry time to seal up exits.

Sure, since they had been given the all clear to go out, Arya would ask and they’d make their way to the town. They didn’t stay very long, maybe an hour or two, but it always let Arya breathe away from home. And yet, Gendry was paranoid about her leaving without him. He went around with his coffee in hand, going down the secret tunnels, making sure they were all locked where Arya could access them. He left the easy exits open - Gendry could catch up with her on particular routes, she was predictable if he narrowed her way out. 

When all that was done, Gendry went to the kitchen, brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and made a large mug to take along with him. “Is this for princess Arya again?” one of the kitchen hands asked. Gendry had noticed him a few times, seemed like a lovely bloke, always smiling and eager to please anyone who asked for help.

“Yep,” Gendry nodded, pouring the coffee into the mug. 

“I hope she likes it, I’ve seen her sneak in here sometimes.”

Gendry smiled to himself, knowing the kitchen was one of her favourite hiding spots. “You been working here long?” he asked, the kitchen hand perked at the question. 

“A few months, I’m still getting used to it,” he sighed, as though he was still nervous about everything. 

“It’ll get easier. If you meet any of the siblings, just treat them normal like. They’re a weird bunch,” Gendry grinned. The kitchen hand laughed, his smile contagious. 

“I’m Hot-pie. At least, that’s what everyone calls me,” he said extending his hand. Gendry noticed the flour cover his arms. He scoffed, understanding why they probably called him Hot-pie.

Taking his hand, Gendry gripped it tight and smiled to the baker. “Gendry.” 

By the time that was all finished, he was waiting at Arya’s bedroom door, getting messages from Brienne and the other security members about that increase in protection for the Gala. It was being held for a birthday celebration for a lord - Baratheon, if Gendry remembered correctly - that would raise money with people attending. The charity was for one of the young Starks to decide. Rumour was...they were finally giving Arya responsibilities. 

They had yet to tell her that though, and it was still only a rumour. 

As the morning dragged on, security was receiving more intel on the location to learn. It was a government building that could hold the hundreds of people in attendance, and they were provided with layouts and designs of the venue for each bodyguard to study, working out exits for each of their wards. 

The door to Arya’s room swung open, a disheveled looking Arya fell to the door, swinging her way around to look at Gendry. Her eyes were barely open, hair a mess of locks unfurled from their braid, and oversized shirt hanging over her shoulder. Gendry kept his gaze to her face, noticing the slight inching of her clothes further down her torso. 

“Coffee,” Arya groaned against the door. Gendry picked up her hand, fingers running up her palm - delicate, tender, and raising it until it reached the cup in his hand. 

“Morning, Princess,” he hummed, clearing his throat when he realised his tone. 

“Lifesaver,” she sighed, hands wrapping around it, barely registering how long Gendry had taken her hand. Arya walked back into her room, and Gendry adjusted his suit. Why did it feel so damn tight? He felt like he was suffocating. 

Walking into Arya’s room, he didn’t know how, but she somehow made it worse than it had been the day before. Wasn’t it clean last night before he left. Rolling his eyes, watching as Arya navigated her way through bounds of trash and clothes, all mixed in together. In reality, her room was a biohazard zone, with things already smelling weird - but it might have been perfume or some shit. He really wasn’t sure. 

As he stood at the brink of the mess, something in his brain was firing away with scenarios and he couldn’t just...leave it as it was. Gendry picked up a piece of clothing, folded it and put it on the ottoman that was far from it’s matching chair. He didn’t care, he would move it later. Gendry kept it up, dreading this mess, but fuck it - this was a major security risk! When he thought about it, he didn’t know if he meant her room or just Arya. Both were a hazard to him. 

“Who’s Eddison Tollett anyway?” Arya asked, slipping back into her sheets, lost amongst the heavy duvet and plethora of throw pillows. In all, Arya almost looked like a rag doll tossed onto a child’s unmade bed. 

“What?” Gendry found the waste bin, tossing empty bottles and random crap in. He was making small headway in the mess, but god...how did someone so small be the reason for such a horrible mess. 

“Heard some of the other bodyguards talking about him?” 

Gendry sighed, moving around the bundle of shit that he was trying to sort through. “He’s worked for your family for years,” he said, to which Arya just shrugged, “he’s under Brienne. We’re just going over order for security reasons.” All the while, Arya sipped at her coffee, slowly waking up to the day. 

“What does that mean?” 

“If something happens to Brienne, we need a second in charge to lead us.” 

“Where are you?” Arya continued to drink, but he really couldn’t tell if she was paying attention to what he was saying. He sat on the arm of the chair near the end of her bed. 

“I’m on personal protection, so my main priority is  _ you _ , unless something happens to the king, then my services may be required elsewhere,” he explained, still trying to clean. It was unsuccessful, but at least he tried. 

“Really?” Arya said, putting her mug on the bedside table, almost knocking over her lamp. Instinct almost kicked in, making Gendry jump up to stop the lamp for toppling over. But it steadied and Gendry was left standing awkwardly at the edge of Arya’s bed.

“We won’t need to worry about that, we just have to be prepared for it,” he said. 

“What am I doing today, anyhow?” Gendry fished out his phone from his pocket, looking over her schedule for the day.

“You have a meeting with your mum in like…” he started, glancing at his watch and sighing, “two hours ago.” 

“You know she -” 

“She’s kept your meeting, but only for another hour, so get dressed,” he said, trying to toss the blankets off her bed, but Arya clutched to them tighter. He shot her a look, warning her not to be a pest and she gave a pout, slipping from her sheets. 

“You’re annoying,” she said, moving past him and going to the bathroom. Gendry watched her stumble her way to the bathroom, and he swallowed, staying outside the door and scrolling through his phone. 

“After that, you need to go to another dress fitting to see if it fits?” he questioned, and Arya poked her head out of the crack in the bathroom door. 

“I’m glad you’re just as confused by fashion as I am,” she faked a smile before she scoffed, hiding back behind the door when she was finished making fun of him. 

“I’ve got a meeting about the Gala after your dress fitting, you’ll also be with your dad, he wants to talk to you,” Gendry explained and Arya groaned, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls. 

“Cool, that’s either gonna be fun, or I’m gonna die in a hole,” she explained. 

“Hopefully the former,” Gendry replied. 

“You’re hoping the latter and I know it.” 

“You caught me,” he said back, laughing a little. Then, a question popped into his mind, and before he knew it, he was asking. “About the gala,” he started.  _ Stop, Gendry! Don’t ask the fucking - _ “Do you have a date?” 

  
  


~*~*~

 

Arya froze in the bathroom. She was getting ready to shower, and now had to see this idiots face because he asked her…

He fucking said, “Do you have a date?” Arya fumbled for her robe and slipped it over her shoulders, tying it tightly around her waist. She emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the frame of the door. 

“Why? Are you asking?” she smirked, only for Gendry to look at the floor and to clear his throat. 

“No, I need to know for your protection detail,” he said, and Arya suddenly felt her cheeks go warm. She wasn’t expecting this. Why did she say that?  _ Fuck _ . 

“No. I don’t have a date,” Arya replied, chewing on the inside of her lip. 

“Good,” he said, confident and a smile that almost seemed…. _ pleased _ with her reply

“Good?” 

Gendry straightened, “Just...it’ll be easier to protect you if I only have to worry about you,” he nodded. 

“My hero,” Arya rolled her eyes.

“You’re running late, Princess,” he replied quickly. 

“Right,” she said, moving back into the bathroom and undressing once more. She met the spray of the hot water, combing the situation out of her hair and washing it from her body. And she wondered...when did she stop caring whether he called her princess or not. In Arya’s bones, she hated being called  _ princess _ or  _ your highness _ , especially by Gendry. But she let him get away with it, over and over again. Maybe she was tired. Or liked the way he said it. And only to her. 

Over the course of her day, she saw him for a few sparing minutes. They didn’t talk, which made her skin crawl. Silence between them was always a sign that there was something wrong. But neither of them broke the delicate balance - to tip it would be to question what words had been shared, and the feelings that lay on the surface that they dare not disturb by going deeper. 

Arya saw less of Gendry after that - he was preparing for the gala, going over test runs. Even though he said he was a priority bodyguard, he certainly seemed to have a lot of responsibilities compared to the others she knew. There was a nagging feeling in her belly that she was responsible for his absence, but she always squashed that notion - Gendry always told her when she’d fucked up. He would have said something. He just needed to be away. 

On the day of the gala, the house became like a warzone, much to Arya’s delight. As chaos came crashing down, Arya was in her element, weaving between the mess and the rush of people working to get everything ready. Arya wanted to be in the palace as the peace set in, watch the staff take a breath and relax after all this mess was through. But instead, she’d be with her family, trying not to be the dark cloud that came over her family’s presence. 

Afternoon came in, her mum taking her by the arm and guiding her to Arya’s room. It took every ounce of Arya’s will not to fight her mother, to just reluctantly give in and follow her mother’s advice. Stepping into her dress, those stupid stick on bras pasted to her chest, and the heels put on to match the colour of the dress. 

She was sat in front of a mirror, someone running a brush over her cheeks as her mother whispered in the makeup artist’s ear. Admittedly, the makeup was subdued, just foundation and a shade of pink that matched her natural lip - but she wasn’t used to the eyeliner or the shimmer of eyeshadow that had been applied. In addition, Arya’s hair was pulled back, only a few strands left to hang around her face. It all looked nice, but Arya felt so separate from herself, like she was still staring at another person that looked exactly like her. This wasn’t her  _ thing _ . 

Catelyn kissed Arya’s cheek, thumb dragging over the kiss to keep from staining Arya’s pristine makeup. “You look lovely, Arya.” 

“Thanks mum,” she replied, swallowing her pride. 

Arya sighed, feigning a smile as her mother beamed and pat Arya’s shoulder. She and the other people left, leaving Arya completely on her own for the first time all night. The door shut and Arya hurled up the mountain of fabric, flinging it up to get to her feet. Once she found purchase in the straps of her heels, she flung them off, tossing them across the room and out of sight. Arya stumbled to her closest, holding onto her dress as she clammered her way there. On the stack of shoes, she found her lucky Doc Martens. Tugging them on, she found the mirror again, making sure her dress covered her shoes and that she didn’t look out of place at all. 

Once she appeared in order, Arya pulled a black shawl over her elbows and scattered downstairs, finding Sansa in the foyer, her shawl over her shoulders and dress making her look elegant as always. A champagne colour that shimmered, as though it were a bottle itself, poured down onto her frame. The ends faded to a pale off white colour. The dress hugged in at her hips before letting the fabric cascade down her body, flowing like a waterfall over her body. 

“Either you’re looking to get four proposals, or you’re trying to get someone’s attention,” Arya laughed, kicking at the bottom of her dress as she made her way to her sister. Sansa laughed, her hair tossing over her shoulder as turned back to Arya, showing off her dress in all its glory. 

“Someone’s attention, and that’s all I’m saying on the matter,” Sansa said, but the curiosity was already killing Arya, “you look amazing too,” she commented, finally taking Arya in. 

“Shut up,” Arya rolled her eyes. The idiot had already seen the dress fitting, she shouldn’t been in awe. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t fallen over,” she commented back, and Arya scrunched up her nose.

“Why?” Arya smirked, picking up the base of her skirt, revealing the black shine of her boots. Sansa groaned, shoving Arya’s dress down. 

“You’re dead if mum sees those.” 

“Well, let’s hope she doesn’t see them.” They both laughed as they waited for the cars to come around - each getting their own or double ups. Robb and Jon would have their own, Sansa and Rickon, then Arya and Bran - their parents having their own as well. Arya fiddled with her phone, trying not to pay too much attention to the way her shawl was in no way a form of warmth, but she had to suffer for the looks of everything, didn’t she?

“Hey, you got an admirer,” Sansa said, pointing softly over Arya’s shoulder.

“The fuck are you on about?” Arya replied, glancing back to see Gendry. He was wearing a tux like all the bodyguards were meant to, but he was playing with his bowtie that he obviously didn’t seem to like at all. And yet, he seemed frozen, that he caught sight of something and it shook him to his core. But he was only looking at Arya. When Sandor Clegane shoved passed him, Gendry moved again, walking slowly to meet in front of Arya. 

“You look good,” he said, a thick swallow, evident enough by the bob of his adam’s apple. 

“Thanks,” Arya murmured, looking down at herself before meeting his gaze again, “so do you.” She tried to laugh, as though she was joking, but all she could bring herself to do was smile back at him, her stomach a fluttering mess. Why the fuck was she so nervous?  

“Right. We’re ready?” 

“All ready,” Arya said, clicking her boots together. Then, Sandor met at Gendry’s shoulder, towering over him. 

“Sandor,” Gendry greeted. 

“Pipsqueak.” 

“I have a name, y’know?” 

Sandor snorted and Arya held in her laughter. “Kid, I really don’t give a fuck.” 

“You’re near the princesses,” 

“And she’s said worse things before breakfast, I think she’ll live.” Sandor stalked off after Sansa, and Arya grinned to herself before Gendry came up beside her.  

“You really thought you were gonna win that, didn’t you?” 

“Shut up,” Gendry grumbled, walking towards the car at the end. Bran was already getting in the backseat when the pair started to move in behind him. Arya picked up the bottom of her dress and got ready for the step up. Arya was getting into the car when she heard the most aggressive and upsetting gasp. She turned to see her mother, stunned and looking down to Arya’s feet. Inside, Arya was cursing herself for not being more careful. She tapped Gendry’s hand and he helped her down.

“Arya! Change them now!” Catelyn yelled. 

“You know I can’t walk in those things,” Arya tried to reason. 

“You are wearing them for a few hours! Just put them on.” 

“No one can see them,” Arya kept it up, only to be met with the scowl of a furious woman. 

“No more questions, young lady. Change!” Catelyn waited for the challenge. It didn’t come. Instead, Arya moved up the staircase, feeling the presence of Gendry directly behind her. She was halfway towards her bedroom when she was getting messages from the cunts downstairs. They all had arrive as a family. She was holding them all up. 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**5:23pm - Bran:** Arya being told to change out of her boots

**5:23pm - Arya:** Bran….don’t make yourself a meme, only I can do that

**5:24pm - Jon:** he’s right though

**5:25pm - Sansa:** are we running late cause you were wearing fucking boots 

**5:25pm - Rickon:** were they chanel boots?

**5:26pm - Sansa:** of course

**5:26pm - Arya:** fuck off no

**5:27pm - Robb:** hurry up, fuck fucks 

**5:27pm - Arya:** our future king everybody 

Gendry scoffed over her shoulder and Arya jumped, realising how close he was. 

“Do you seriously talk to each other like that?” he asked. Arya stopped, her brow knit out of curiosity. He’d worked for her family for nearly a full year, and he was just now realising the Stark children was goddamn nutjobs? He didn’t pay enough attention. 

“Yeah,” she scoffed, typing quickly on her phone. 

“What are you doing?” 

“You’ll see,” Arya smirked down at her phone. 

**5:32pm - Arya:** who wants gendry in the chat, he thinks we don’t actually talk to each other like this 

**5:33pm - Jon:** Add him. Let him suffer 

**5:35pm - Sansa:** yes 👀👀👀

**5:35pm - Arya:** fuck off i’m adding him

*Gendry Waters has been added to the group*

Gendry started to get messages through on his phone, taking it from his pocket as Arya smiled to him. 

“Suffer time, bitch,” she grinned and he watched her with curiosity and horror. It made Arya’s night. 

In her room, Arya tossed her boots against the door, narrowly missing Gendry. She’d reply, but he was still scrolling through his phone, probably reading over whatever they were saying. It was later confirmed when Arya was on her hands and knees trying to find where she flung her heels. 

“Wow, you guys just...keep talking don’t you?” he murmured and Arya laughed, rising slightly to look at a bewildered Gendry. 

“We rarely shut up,” she confirmed, going back to her search. It took her longer than she anticipated to remember that she tossed them to separate ends of her room. By the time she managed to get them back on, Gendry was standing with his hands behind his back, waiting for her. 

He gave a cocky smirk as Arya stumbled slightly walking towards him. “You look very nice,” he said, and Arya raised her brow, “you almost reach my shoulder now.” Gendry held in a laugh and Arya rolled her eyes.  

“Go fuck yourself,” she snapped, smacking him in the chest, moving off down the hall and trying not to fall to her death in those stupid heels. They weren’t even that high, she just sucked at walking in the death traps. 

“You might actually pass as a princess now,” he continued to tease. 

“You might actually be killed by the end of the night, how does that sound?” she sarcastically replied, still thoroughly annoyed by everything. 

“Fun,” he scoffed, nudging her slightly in her shoulder, “come on, I’ll catch you if you fall,” he said, but Arya couldn’t help but notice the way he avoided touching her directly, letting just a finger touch at line of tulle that acted as her straps. 

“I have serious doubts. You’re gonna film me every time I fall aren’t you?” she remarked.

There was a long pause before he replied. “You said it, not me.” 

“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna actually kill you,” she stopped, Gendry always in beat with her, standing directly next to her but not glancing her way. Yet, he still had a cheeky smile on his lips, one he tried to hide but was failing miserably. 

When both their phones buzzed, she knew they had to keep going, otherwise the caravan of royals was going to kill them both. 

 

~*~*~

 

Gendry stood on the side of the room, watching queens, princes and princess, lords and ladies, all gather in the ballroom, seated and standing to chat amongst themselves. There were several men that Gendry didn’t know, and it made him feel uneasy, but was set at ease when Brienne confirmed they were the personal security of the Baratheon king.  

In the midst of the highborn festivities, Gendry tried not to fiddle with his fucking suit. He really wasn’t used to wearing the bulletproof vest underneath his clothes. Most bodyguards were used to the feeling, but Gendry was new to this - how they wear nice things and look all proper - it just all felt unnatural. He tugged on his tie as he caught sight of Arya - she was easy to lose in a crowd, but she was talking with Princess Sansa, the two joking and making faces at one another. 

Just the sight of her...made Gendry smile. 

Pure joy. 

“Gendry,” a deep voice said beside him and he turned, seeing King Eddard standing beside him, a large pint in his hand. Did they give out pints at royal functions? Gendry wasn’t sure, but he doubted that anyone would refuse the king. 

“Your majesty,” Gendry started to bow when the king stopped his shoulder and let Gendry rise back up. 

“I’d like to apologise to you for that day -” he said with a sigh.

“It isn’t necessary,” Gendry shook his head. 

“You have to understand, Arya doesn’t normally take to her security detail,” he said, as though it made him sad that his daughter was so strong willed, or perhaps it was because she wasn’t adequately protected. 

“I know Arya very well, your majesty. I try and make sure she feels comfortable with me, as I am the one she does have to spend all her time with. I let her do as she pleases as long as that doesn’t involve anything risky. I respect the crown, and will keep it safe,” Gendry explained, and the King’s brow raised, surprised by Gendry’s response. 

“You go above and beyond the call of duty and I commend you for that,” the King said, clapping Gendry’s shoulder hard enough to knock Gendry forward, “you make her happy. I hope that continues.” 

Gendry couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you sir, have a great night.” 

“If the King ever bloody arrives,” he joked, taking a drink of his pint before choking on it, erupting into a giant smile, arms wide and a loud voice echoing across the room, “ah! Robert! Come here!” He called, and the room turned to see a large man, suit making him seem slimmer, but he looked brutal - as though the wrong word could set him off. He beamed, however, when he took sight of King Eddard, walking over to the man slowly. 

King Robert Baratheon of the Stormlands. That’s who they all whispered about, his kin following after as the two kings embraced like old friends. In all, the new king did not entertain Gendry - he focused his attention back on Arya who sat down, ignoring most of the commotion that happened around her father. 

It seemed like Arya was being punished to attend, but no one truly cared what she did once she was there. It made Gendry mad, that he couldn’t be beside her - make her laugh at least. But instead, he stood the furthest away from her, watching as people passed her, her attention following them for a moment before she leaned over her table and picked at bread. She chewed on it absentmindedly, and it was quite funny to watch the person who probably thought they were being ignored above everyone else. 

She’d never be ignored when Gendry was around. 

Throughout the night, Gendry watched after her, sometimes drifting to the loud laughter from the Baratheon king, but always falling back the princess. She’d talk with her brothers, throw food at them to get their attention and then call them over. 

Robb had his fiancee come, a gesture to bring her to family gatherings, and Arya loved to joke around with her. Talisa if Gendry was remembering correctly. The two were thick as thieves, talking for ages until Talisa was dragged away to be presented as the next princess, one that may bare the future king or queen. 

Jon had Ygritte on his arm, the famous archer that was bound for the Olympics the following year. The two had met by accident at an event and Jon was the biggest fool since. Arya had once said that Ygritte was too good for Jon, but loved having the archer in her life. They flitted around, Arya following after to ask Ygritte things about archery - Gendry thought as much as the two demonstrated the stances in the middle of a talking to diplomats. Neither woman cared. 

Eventually, she talked with a few other people, some older men asking her questions, some women marvelling at her dress to which she possibly gave an awkward reply by the looks on the women’s faces. In the end, she was met with a man, possibly the same age as her, a good looking guy and a smile that could pierce any woman’s heart. 

Gendry’s jaw clenched uncomfortably. 

“Prince of Braavos,” Podrick said beside Gendry. 

“Hmm?” he tried to play off his staring - but he felt an anger burning in his chest as he watched the tall man gravitate towards Arya, speaking in her ear like they were closer than she and Gendry. 

_ Wait, what? _

“The guy. He’s prince...shit, I know this, it’s something strange. Titan of Braavos! Apparently flirts with everyone. Has been trying to get in favour with the Starks for years. And Sansa has shot him down so many times, he might actually think he has a chance with Arya,” Podrick explained and Gendry scoffed.

“You and I both know he doesn’t.” 

“So why are you staring? Why does it matter?” he asked, and Gendry felt a snarl at the edge of his mouth. 

“I just don’t trust him,” he replied. 

Podrick moved off from Gendry’s side, hearing his earpiece indistinctly spark to life with a voice urging him away. In the end, Gendry was left staring at the pair, a prince and princess speaking to one another, and Gendry was left feeling like he was a raging bull. 

He noticed the hand that had snaked onto Arya’s hip, and it took everything in Gendry not to move. It was his priority to protect Arya - and this felt like a threat. But it couldn’t be. It could be innocent. But it wasn’t. Not to Gendry. He wanted to break the prince’s fingers - every single one that dared to touch Arya. 

Before he realised it, the prince was lingering his hands down, hidden beneath fabric, and obviously trying to get better contact with Arya. Gendry was about to lunge from the wall when Arya spun around, twisting his wrist the opposite way it should have, and bringing her heel down hard against the prince’s foot. 

The foot that slammed down onto the prince’s shoe made the room hiss out in pain, the prince crumbling to the ground. It was loud, like a thunderclap in the middle of a reverberating ballroom. Gendry, the only person who knew Arya as well as her family, held in a laugh, chewing on his lip as he looked down at the floor. God, if he made even an ounce of a noise that resembled a laugh, he’d be fired. 

But god, that was fucking funny. 

Bastard got what was coming to him. 

When Gendry raised his head, he saw Arya creeping away from the party, everyone’s attention put on the prince and his dramatic wailing in the middle of the ballroom. Gendry cleared his throat, updated the security where he was going, and started to round the edges of the room until he found the same door she escaped through.

 

~*~*~

 

_ Fuck _ . Why did she do that? She hurt her ankle, and more importantly, she knew she was going to get shit from her mum for this. The look on her face when the loud thump of Arya’s heel echoed around the ballroom was signal enough that Arya was in deep shit. Catelyn’s brow was furrowed so deep, she was redefining the meaning of angry. 

But it was better than being fondled whilst no one was paying attention. She felt awful, merely for some person’s greedy hands, and that wasn’t Arya. She was pressed up against a large windowsill, her hot face resting on the cooling glass and the bounds of material fluttered over her legs as she hitched them up. It was hard to cradle her knees, but she felt as though she needed some comfort. And it was only her there. 

“Not going to dance?” a voice interrupted her silence. She turned to see Gendry at the edge of the room, his bowtie undone and his top button loose. Arya had to admit, he looked good. 

“I don’t really know how to,” Arya said, rubbing at her ankle. She felt like she was fighting against her dress just to get to aching feet - but she got there in the end. “No one really wants to dance with me. I don’t really wanna dance with anyone,” she scoffed, letting herself relax and look out the window again. She was probably driving Gendry nuts - he was very clear that she shouldn’t be near windows, that any nutjob with a crazy enough idea could and would harm her. But he didn’t say that. He said something that shocked her. 

“What about me?” he asked. Arya swung her legs from the windowsill, standing slowly as she inspected his face. He wasn’t exactly joking, but he was definitely curious if she’d say yes. 

“What  _ about _ you?” she replied. 

Gendry unbuttoned his suit jacket “Would you dance with me? I’m not great, but I can follow if you want to lead,” he asked, offering his hand to her. There was the faint sound of music playing from the ballroom, so she could at least follow the 

“A real feminist,” Arya scoffed, drifting over to him. He laughed and shrugged.

“My mum taught me, I can’t lead for shit.” 

“We’ll go slow,” she smiled, taking his hand and moved in towards him. He brought her in as close as possible and Arya took charge, urging him backwards as she guided them in a slow waltz, both laughing at their very poor attempt at dancing. 

They eventually found a rhythm that might be considered dancing, more like swaying. Arya hadn’t realised it at first, but as they stayed so close, her head fell to his chest, his hand on her waist holding her close, and although he held her hand - the grip was tender, as though to savour the sensation. 

A question nagged, pestered,  _ plagued _ her thoughts. It had done since he questioned her. It nagged on her more and more after she saw how hard set his jaw clenched when she was speaking to the prince of Braavos. As he held her, like it was a moment that could only be shared between the two of them - her heart like a drum, the beat of a stampede - she had to ask, to let herself be at ease. 

“Did you really need to know if I had a date tonight?” she asked, her voice so small, it didn’t even sound like her own. 

“No. I didn’t.” It was a simple reply, and Arya looked up, watching as he faced forward, not meeting her eye. “I wanted to know.” 

“Why?” she asked, to which he finally stared at her, and the look in his eyes was filled with fire, a fury that could turn to passion in the blink of an eye. It made Arya’s chest ache, heart racing like a marathon. 

“You know why,” he replied, voice low and rough, a gravelly mess that made her feel frantic. Arya trailed her hand up his shoulder, going on her toes as she felt his hand on her waist tighten. 

“Gendry, do you have Nymeria?” the voice in Gendry’s earpiece was loud. Brienne. Gendry stepped back from her, speaking to the right side of his collar. 

“This is Gendry, I have Nymeria. Is something wrong?” he asked. Arya lifted her chin, sighing as she fiddled with the folds of her dress. 

“The family is leaving,” Brienne said, and Gendry nodded. 

“I’ll be right there with the princess.” They were left standing in the mess of silence, contained by sentence that were left open ended. There would never be a resolution - they would never speak of it, and it made Arya feel weak. 

“We’re never going to be able to finish what we started, are we?” she laughed. Trying to gain composure, she started to walk past Gendry, only for his hand to grab at her wrist and pull her in, flush against his body. She was completely taken off guard, especially by the way his hand held her at the small of her back, keeping her hard against his body. His face lowered to hers, forehead resting against her own, and breaths being exchanged. 

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, almost in a whisper and Arya begged him to tell her - no words could do it, but he would use his lips exactly how she craved. 

“Gendry, are you on your way?” another pestering call came through the comms and Gendry pulled back once more, leaving Arya wanting. He had a way of doing that. But the deep furrow in his brow made her nervous - as though regret gripped him more than anything she was feeling.

“Yeah.” 

Arya walked ahead of Gendry, not quite sure how to feel him hovering behind her. They made it to the second car behind her mother and father, and she started to climb into the backseat, Bran not too far behind her. As she collapsed into the backseat, she prevent Bran from moving inside. 

“Go away,” she snapped, unsure as to why she was being so harsh. Maybe she was feeling conflicted, or confused and didn’t know how to deal with frustration. Bran’s brow knit tight, shrugging as he looked at his sister. 

“What? Why?” 

“I want the car, my dress is too big,” she lied - knowing full well the two fit into the same car when they arrived there that night. 

“Little miss spoiled,” Bran mumbled. 

“Go with mum and dad,” she suggested and Bran laughed, giving her the finger. 

“Fuck you too,” he said, walking towards the car in front. 

“I’ll let you have your own car next time,” Arya called out, closing the door. She watched Gendry get into the passenger seat in the front, watched the way he squared his shoulders before they moved after her parents car set off. 

 

~*~*~

 

Arya grumbled in the backseat, unstrapping the high heels and throwing them to the opposite side of the car to herself. Gendry had found the thing he had hidden from her in one of the other cars, smuggling them in when Arya was arguing with Bran. 

He flung them over his shoulder and shook them in front of her. Arya gasped, reaching forward and snatching them from his hands. “Did you seri -” she stopped and laughed, “I can’t believe you actually brought me my boots.” 

“You can thank me later.” He looked back watching her push her feet into her boots, a wide grin on her face. She was so pleased, and it made him glad he thought of it. He was surprised he managed to hide them from her, but she rarely looked behind his back, always thinking it’s just his hands. 

He looked back to the road. They were half way through their journey when he saw the flash of orange bolt across the road. Gendry was already gripping the dashboard when the car in front noticed, swerving hard, and watching in horror as the SUV wrenched itself from the road and flipped several times along the road. 

“Holy shit!” he swore, the comms becoming chaotic as he watched the car stop and start to smoke. The car was flipped completely on its hood, oil spilling on the road, and the car looking like a complete disaster - dented doors, glass strewn across the road, pieces of the car completely gone or missing. 

Sandor’s was the first clear audio. “What the fuck was -” 

“Sandor, get Sansa out of here, now!” Gendry replied, Sandor almost speaking up when Gendry thought of the code quickly. “Little Bird to Phoenix.” 

“Fuck,” Sandor swore, and the car behind theirs turned sharply and turned around. Arya was saying something in the backseat, trying to reach forward, but Gendry unbuckled his seatbelt, getting in her line of sight.

“What just happened?” Jon said next. 

“Jon, there’s been an accident. Get Robb to safety, do not tell anyone where you’re going, I’ll contact you later,” Gendry said, and Arya looked at him with worry written into her features. 

“What -” 

“Move on Pup becomes Wolf,” Gendry swore back, trying his hardest not to freak Arya out. 

“Shit,” Jon said, going to call comms, “Move! Everyone!” 

“Gendry, what’s going on?” Arya said, and Gendry saw the other cars waiting. 

“Everyone, get back! Go around the car, go to routes B and C, I don’t want anything disrupting the scene,” he demanded. “Go now!” he snapped, watching the cars all move, blazing trailing in other directions and hidden sirens wailing as the scene was cleared out. 

“Brienne -” Podrick tried over the comms, but it was on Gendry’s mind too. She was in the car with the king and queen - she was no longer on point.   _ God, where the fuck was Ed when he needed him. _ Gendry just had to move - no one else saw it. 

“I know, call the police right now! I don’t care just -” The back door opened, and Gendry watched as Arya ran towards the scene. 

“ _ Bran _ !” she screamed. 

“Fuck,” Gendry kicked the door open, yelling again. “Everyone! Fucking  _ move _ !” 

“Dad! Mum!” she called, but no reply came. Gendry was trying his hardest to catch up - to get her before she could make it there, but she wasn’t letting anything get in her way. The scene was still, unmoving from anything inside. 

“Arya, get back!” he yelled after her, only to watch her skid across the asphalte and glass, scrambling to get into the car. Gendry’s heart was racing - a jackhammer powering his chest and it was driving him nuts. He was scared shitless. 

“Dad!” she yelled, and Gendry crawled in behind her, looking up and seeing the king still strapped to his seat, blood pouring from his mouth. He gurgled and cough, splattering blood over Arya and Gendry as they lay beneath him. Arya’s hand clutched to her father’s, her crying becoming the only noises from the wreck. Gendry glanced around, Brienne was buckled up in the front seat, he couldn't tell her wounds, but she may have been more hurt than she looked. The queen next to the king was unconscious - body slumped against the door. Bran lay on the roof - ground now - slumped and unmoving, and all Gendry could think was; Bran was either extremely injured or dead. 

“Arya! Don’t touch them!” Gendry yelled, taking hold of Arya and making sure she didn’t see Bran. Ned was still gripping hard to Arya’s hand, and Gendry looked up to him. 

“ _ Take...her _ …” he gurgled, spurting out more blood as he let go of Arya’s hand. The two of them lay in blood, had it covering their faces, and Gendry only cared about Arya. Gendry curled his arm around Arya’s waist and tugged her as hard as he could, pulling her from the car. 

“Get your hands off of me! Stop!” Arya yelled, sobbing in between her words. She was nothing to him, he powered through her fight, dragging her as much as he could as she kicked and clawed against him. She was wailing, swearing as he made her get to her feet and he pointed towards the car.

“Move!” he ordered. Arya snarled, pushing hard against his chest, trying to step around him. 

“How dare you, get out of my way!” she swore, tears mixing in with the blood, and her sobs subdued in her chest. She panted, the tears still escaping her, and Gendry’s heart was breaking.  _ I’m sorry. I can’t let you see this. Please just get back in the car. _

“Arya, get back into the fucking car,  _ now _ !” he yelled back. 

“Police are almost at the scene, are you going to stay?” Podrick said over comms, and Gendry clenched his fist. 

“Where the fuck is Eddison?” 

Ed soon called through, his car looming in the distance. “Gendry, stay on scene, I need you there.” 

“Fuck,” he swore to himself. He called back to the driver. “Get Arya back to the house now!” he said, watching the driver nod and drive as fast as he could towards the palace. 

The chaos stopped - the scene was so still, not even a wind could blow through to disturb it. Once it had slowed down, it all became clear. A fox ran into the road, the driver swerve, the car flipped. That simple. What wasn’t simple was that car held the king, queen, and the prince. There ended up being five ambulances on the scene. There was no guessing who was worst hit - just a mess of people being taken to intensive care. He had to be cleaned up - glass embedded in his skin when he didn’t even feel it - adrenaline, he reminded himself. Adrenaline and pain cancelled each other out. Gendry had to run down the information to police, to Ed, to the ambulance people on the scene. Everyone was on edge. 

It was the King after all. 

Yet, all Gendry could think about was Arya. He knew Arya was injured - she had to be with everything she waded through. When Ed gave him the all clear, Gendry bolted to the palace, witnessing it in true chaos. His heart was racing when he was met by Beric at the front door. 

“Where the hell is Nymeria?” Gendry asked, and the man shrugged back. 

“I don’t know, we’ve got chaos here, idiot,” he replied sharply and Gendry groaned. 

“Beric, get back on perimeter, Ed wants us in lock down.” 

“We can’t go on lock down until we find Nymeria,” he snapped.

“Fuck, I’m on it,” he said, walking inside and giving everyone a ten minute call. Lock down is in effect. 

The comms were going off the rails, so much noise and chatter, it was like a machine gun of voices going off in his ear. Detaining the royal family was their main priority, and they had just lost the third in line to the throne. Gendry made out that they had Robb, Sansa, Rickon and Jon all in safe hands - but Arya was lost. No one could find her. 

“The fucking third in line is missing, and you dumbasses can’t fucking find her?” Sandor yelled after Gendry started questioning over the comms. He kept ordering people about, but when Gendry saw her boots at the edge of her door, he knew exactly where he needed to go. 

“Sandor, shut the fuck up for a second,” Gendry snapped.

“What did you say, boy?” Gendry didn’t pay attention to it as he let the door to Arya’s room creak open. 

He recognised those movements. He’d seen them in his mother, her scared and trembling hands, the shiver that shook her from time to time. She was pacing, back and forth, hands outstretched, blood over her forearms and splattered on her dress. King Ned. His blood. Arya was fragile beyond what she’d ever ever experienced and Gendry felt his chest clench.

“I have Nymeria,” Gendry whispered, taking out his earpiece and flicking it over his shoulder. He made his way into her room carefully, the sound of her door opening wider shocked her. Gendry swallowed hard, edging closer to her, “Arya, are you okay?” he asked. Arya looked at herself, hands splattered with blood, dress a mix of the blacks and blues and blood that stained it’s beautiful design. 

“I need to get this off of me,” she said, voice strangled, her hands tearing at her back. Gendry moved quickly. Speed was what he needed to be - he was fast where she was slow. He came up behind her, taking the zipper down the skirt before it became loose on her body. She let it slip from around her shoulders and it gracefully dropped to the floor. Gendry kicked it aside as Arya’s arms crossed over her chest, her whole body shaking. 

He remembered what he had done for his mother, what she always needed when she was sad and grieving. Shock did wonders to the body - destroying every impulse of self care. But Gendry knew Arya would destroy herself before she even realised it. 

“I’ll get you a bath going,” he said, dashing off to the bathroom and turning on the hot water, finding the right temperature of the water. Arya stood at the brink of the bathroom, watching as he testing the waters. When it was half filled, Gendry nodded to her, hand extended to her to take, “are you -” he started, but Arya gripped the edge of the bathtub, letting her legs slip in and she delicately placed herself in the water. 

Gendry sighed, leaving her be, walking towards the bathroom door. He stopped himself, wondering if he should even do it. He saw exactly what she did - he saw more, and being alone scared the hell out of him. And there she was, feeling for her family - the ones that had seen her not a few hours before with smiles on their faces. 

He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to ask him to stay or to leave. Gendry shouldn’t have, and so he turned, only to be stopped midway through the bathroom door as he heard the sob escape her fragile form. It stunned him, the sound so precious and broken, and ultimately - it scared him. Looking back at Arya, her shoulders were shaking, hands clutching at the edge of the tub, as though she was trying to restrain the crying she wished to let out. 

And he knew he couldn’t leave. 

Gendry stripped out of his shoes, taking everything electronic from his person, taking off his jacket. He fumbled out of most things, leaving his shirt and trousers on, pushing lightly on her back as he crept in behind her. He pulled his arms around her, lingering his fingers over her arms, tangling his fingers with hers and clutching on tight. He curled their arms around her. 

“It’s okay, just breathe,” he whispered into her ear, holding her as close as he could. She didn’t say anything, she let his body form around hers, and she clutched tighter, falling into his embrace as the sobs strangled in her chest before being let out. Her cries were heartbreaking, trying to be strong, trying to keep her chin up - but they let spill the hurt and pain that no one could describe. Words were lost, cries couldn’t even comprehend what she was feeling, and he could feel it when she shook in his hold. 

“They can’t die. They can’t. They can’t.” It was as though she were praying - begging the universe to let it happen, wishing it into existence. Her mantra, they wouldn’t. But he knew what she meant in her heart.

_ I can’t lose my father - the man that cared for me like no other.  _

_ I can’t lose my mother - I have to say I’m sorry.  _

_ I can’t lose my brother - it was my fault her was there.  _

Gendry wished he could take it all away, make every wish she held come true. But he could only hold her.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered again as she cried, “just breathe,” he said, hands around her own. The strangled sob escaped her, and her shoulders shook. But she didn’t care. Walls crumbled, bare in front of him. But he held her, submerging her blood drenched hands underneath the water, concealing the blood by the comparison of his hands. 

Shielding her from the pain. 

His cheek rested on her head, her small sobs echoing in the bathroom. But he didn’t say anything else. He would wait until the water got cold. He’d wait until the night faded into day, then back again. Days upon days, he’d wait. For the crying to stop, for her to lift her chin and try to be calm. Be the pillar her family needed her to be. 

He’d wait for her. 

The silenced pierced the bathroom, even when Arya’s cries bounced on the walls, there was nothing. All he knew was that Arya’s hands clung to his, and he squeezed back, keeping her grounded. His knuckles went white, her body shaking against his, cries so wild and silent all wrapped up from heartache. Gendry couldn’t let her go. He made sure there were no space between them, holding onto her with everything he had. 

Arya’s tears mixed in with the bathwater, her feet kicking when she needed to lash out. He held her through it, watching as the water spilled from the tub. Her rage billowed out with her cries, spreading over the room, not once breaking the silence. He knew she didn’t care what sounds she made, everyone was wailing just the same. For Arya...she needed to do this, even when she didn’t want. Gendry held her firm against his chest, sturdy and strong, never moving even when she gripped so tightly, her nails accidently broke his skin. Her life was crumbling down around her, but he was there, he had her, and she was safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't like the fact that ao3 won't let me have a 2.5 chapter. makes me seem productive having 4 chapters up when it's like...3....  
> anways, hope you enjoyed! micah called me whilst reading this and seemed very upset


	5. Hold Me While You Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta-ed...we post like men. ya know....male authors who talk about boobs in a weird way or like your vagina is a flower or some shit. we have that level confidence son! yeah....its been a while - sorry! got a job that keeps me busy and writing took a while. sorry!

Silence. 

Hollow echoes of noises filled the halls, soft and sharp, piercing into the frozen home. Gendry tried not to disturb it, moving in quiet footsteps to get to Arya’s room. But it still felt hollow. Stairways left barren, rooms left without a breath, spaces remained unoccupied. No one dared to disturb their tranquility of mourning. 

Yet, it wasn’t exacting mourning - it was fear, caution, worry.

Gendry stood outside of Arya’s room, her door cracked open enough to watch her sleep. She seemed to sleep better in mid-afternoon, so he let her. Watched as the fierce woman he knew and cared for, lay in bed, trying to find solace in sleep. 

No one had died, thankfully, but they were all hospitalised. The driver had a ruptured spleen and a few fractures in his arms and ribs from the airbag going off. Brienne broke her femur, a clean snap when the bonnet caved in as it crashed. She’d been stuck at the scene the longest - body completely pinned in place. She was calm through the whole thing - even with such a painful break.  

The Queen had superficial injuries compared to others; a broken wrist and a fracture in her leg. She was released the next day. But it didn’t mean she left the hospital. Bran was left in a fragile way. Gendry knew the kid would be fucked, but he didn’t know to what extent. Multiple spinal fractures. He hadn’t regained consciousness since the accident three days before. 

The king was another story. A broken rib that caused a collapsed lung - Gendry guessed that was why blood was pouring from the king’s mouth that night. When surgery came to repair it, complications arose, and a suspected swelling of the brain happened. Everything was so rushed, by the time things settled down, so to speak, the king was placed in an induced coma. 

And that was what had the house standing still. 

Robb was supposed to be covering all the kingly duties, but declined, stating that it was wrong to lay claim to a man’s title that wasn’t even dead. When Robb had said it on the news, the sisters were gathered to watch. Sansa broke down crying. Arya stormed out. Gendry later found her in the empty bathtub, curling her arms around herself and quietly sobbing. 

Gendry had found that she did that a lot - curled herself in the bathtub, softly crying or just sitting silently. He wasn’t sure why. But he left her - worrying himself with the possibilities of what was going through her head. 

Arya was the strongest person Gendry knew - she’d fight tooth and nail for just about anything she took the slightest pleasure in. He’d never seen her so... _ soft _ . Arya had a front, walls built so high, by the time you reached the top, she’d had built something even higher. Gendry didn’t want to break down her walls, didn’t want her to cave in every time he came near her - he just wanted her to be okay. 

It broke him to have to see her that way. 

It was also becoming a problem after what he said to her that night - that she was doing something to him that he couldn’t explain. And it was true, she was a whirlwind of a person, shooting through his life like a bullet, and all he wanted to do was chase after the disaster, being left in her wake. He’d crumble, and he didn’t care. She set him free. 

But so many things kept them apart. 

His job. 

Her title. 

Their age.

Although, that was a small stretch, it was something that had become clear to him - that he was the age of her oldest brothers, and there was quite a few years between he and Arya. She was only twenty-two, and he was just about to turn twenty-eight - and yes they were adults, there was still something strange about Gendry feeling this attraction his best friend’s little sister. 

And in the end, all he wanted to do was kiss her - to be able to finish what he started that night in the pub. 

But everything in the universe seemed content on stopping them from being close. Gendry fucking hated it. He deserved the fucking princess. 

Well, he thought he did. There was an undeniable connection, and any time they were close always seemed to lead to the same tension and lips so close to touching, it was as though they were inseparable. 

For the life of him, Gendry never wanted to be apart from her, not even for a few hours, as he had come to realise the night of the accident. 

He held her, and knew he was done for. 

The first night, he helped her put on her baggy clothes and sat at the edge of her bed as she cried herself to sleep. All Gendry knew to do was stroke her hair out of her face, and hold her hand when she reached for it. When she finally slept, it was morning, and the media was going insane. The press stood at the palace gates, shouting at all hours to try and get a glimpse of the grieving family. They didn’t get past a stern Tormund and Beric, who stared down the media - threatening them with a gaze and a trained hand on their hips.

Apart from everything, Gendry was concerned for Arya. She could protect and take care of herself, but it seemed she lacked the titular word - care. She didn’t shower until he told her too, she’d rarely eat, and most of all, she was barely sleeping. Afternoon naps were as much sleep as she got, as far as he knew. The rest of the family kept a fairly good sleeping schedule, but Arya seemed like a mess. He knew why - Bran, mostly - but no one blamed her, for any of it and it broke him to see her so fragile. 

For most of the day, Arya spent it in her room, looking over news articles that updated on the King’s wellbeing, as well as Bran’s. For the afternoon shift, he had Podrick looking after her. She would go take her nap, maybe ask for food and walk around the palace - Arya was locked into her routine and it had only been a few days. 

There was a spark that was lost from her, and Gendry felt it. 

He made sure she went to take a shower before he left that day. “I’m handing over to Podrick, okay?” he asked, waiting for her to acknowledge his words. She wandered into the bathroom in a daze, nodding slowly before escaping behind the bathroom door. Gendry sighed, hands on his hips as he left Arya’s room. Outside, he found Podrick waiting, giving a weak smile as they saw each other. “She’s taking a shower. I think she’ll go to sleep for a bit.” 

“Her walks have been longer. She sometimes just stands outside of the Prince’s room,” Podrick noted. 

“Fuck.” Gendry ran his hand over his head. “We’ll get her back. Any news on the king? Or Prince Bran?” 

“Nothing good.” 

“Alright. Try and keep me updated if you hear anything.” 

“Yes sir,” Pod replied, and Gendry clapped his shoulder before leaving. Gendry flicked out his earpiece, moving around the palace before he stopped at the young prince’s quarters. No one had touched it since that night. He broke open the door, untainted by days of grieving and let the light in.

It was dark, curtains drawn and nothing getting through. Gendry cautiously flipped the lights on, to see the room of a boy in his early twenties. It was a mess in some regard, clothes strewn around and a few pieces of garbage that had missed the bin. His bed was made, sort of, as the duvet was haphazardly thrown over the entire bed and not smoothed out to look pristine. On his desk, there were notes from Bran’s university course that was to start in a few months. He was doing an honours course after Oxford, now at Cambridge. From what Gendry knew, Bran decided this, as to not pick favourites amongst universities, and that both are a good fit for any student. 

Gendry had rarely interacted with the prince, but from what he knew, Bran was a great guy. 

Turning off the lights, Gendry firmly shut the door, as though nothing had disturbed the room at all. 

Gendry checked in on everyone before leaving - and although they were all in their respective rooms, he just liked to check in. The reality of the security situation was, Gendry wasn’t a personal bodyguard anymore. Since the crash, Ed prompted Gendry to his second, as Gendry had practically taken point. Once Brienne was back, Gendry would return to his full duties of protecting Arya. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop. Ed didn’t know that Gendry and Pod took turns watching Arya - keeping her well monitored. It was the only way that Gendry felt right about leaving her; that night broke her in a way that he couldn’t quite explain and the thought of leaving her at that moment was too hard to even contemplate.

Walking to the gates, Gendry turned back to the palace. It looked darker, the white colour seeming sadder, the imperfections from time and weather were more clear to him now, and it made leaving almost impossible. He did anyway, knowing he’d be reprimanded if he didn’t treat himself well - an unwell, sleep deprived bodyguard isn’t any use to its protectee, Gendry remembered. 

Wandering into town, he made his way towards the bar. The Stag Head. It was quiet during the day, just the day drunks and a few men trying to watch an old game of football. Behind the bar, a woman with long brown hair stood cleaning a spot on the bartop. She had a few greys starting to take roots in her hair, wrinkles becoming a little more defined, but she was beyond beautiful that hardly anyone noticed. She pushed her glasses up onto her forehead when Gendry walked in. 

“Hey mum,” he greeted, stretching across the bar to place a kiss on her cheek. His mother glanced behind her, looking at the clock on the wall. She wasn’t used to his new schedule. 

“Hey sweetie, what are you doing here?” she asked, turning back to him, a furrow knit between her brows. 

“I need some advice,” he said, sitting down across from her. She sighed, leaning to meet his eye across the bar. 

“What on?” She kept her gaze trained on him, squinting hard until Gendry laughed. He always did - ever since he was a kid. 

Combing his hand through his hair, he huffed, flattening himself against the bar’s surface. “How do...I make a girl know that I’m there to comfort her without seeming like a twat and making it seem like she can’t handle a situation?” he huffed, tracing patterns into the countertop and looking up at his mum with pleading eyes. He felt like he was asking her advice like when he was a teenager - some pathetic weak voice that came after and eyes that asked not to judge him. 

His mother straightened, hand moving over his head. “That’s quite an ask,” she sympathised, “who is she?” 

“A friend,” he said, tilting his head slightly. 

“Hmm,” she rolled her eyes, and before Gendry could protest, she spoke, “act like nothing has changed. Just smile more,” she tried, and Gendry shot up.

“What?” 

She scoffed, folding her arms in front of her chest, a raise in her brow as to challenge her again. “Look, Gendry, you’re a bit of a stubborn bull, and that means you look like you’re ready to fight in any moment,” she laughed and Gendry ran a hand over his face. He needed to rephrase it. He hated speaking. It was always so hard. 

“The thing is, this girl...she doesn’t like sentimental things. She’s strong, and she knows she is, but this  _ thing _ has really thrown her. What do I do to have it be better?” he asked again, a little more determined. 

She stopped for a moment, thinking to herself. Gendry always looked up to his mum. Tailya was the youngest of four siblings - the only girl and was made tough because of it, but weaker after whatever happened with Gendry’s father. He was gone in a breath, no one besides his mum knew who he was. Tailya moved on with her life, raised Gendry, and that was all that ever mattered to either of them.  

Tailya finally sighed, reaching over the bar once more and touching his cheek. “The problem is, you can’t. Unless the  _ thing _ that’s making her sad is easily reversible, then you just have to be beside her. Just being there will mean more than any gifts, or gestures,” she smiled sweetly and Gendry smiled kindly back. 

Wandering home, hands in his pockets, all Gendry could think of was Arya. He should have been concerned for the king - the protection of everyone within the confines of the palace walls. Yet, she was the only thing that worried him - whether she was sitting in bed, or was running around doing god-knows-what, and she was all he could think about. 

He stopped mid step and knew exactly what the fuck this all meant. 

Rain clouds loomed overhead. Droplets hit his face, and he stared up at the breaking sky. 

He was screwed.

 

~*~*~

 

Arya wasn’t used to being so sad. She understood everything; that her father was in a coma and needed to wake up, her mother was fine if not a little bruised, and her brother was probably never going to walk again. Yet, she didn’t understand why she felt so rotten. Arya could be better than all of this. Instead, she stayed in bed without sleeping and wandered the palace grounds because it seemed like the thing to do. She wanted to pull herself together, but she felt so torn, that something was so violently taken from her and all she wanted to do was throw things until they shattered like her spirit. 

None of it seemed to matter in the end. 

Between the worry she felt and the constant eyes, she wasn’t sure where to start with recovery. Was recovery even the right word? She didn’t even know. She felt so tired, distant from anything and anyone. Not even Gendry seemed to reach her and it hurt her a little that they hadn’t spoken since that night.

Maybe she was different now. Maybe he didn’t see her the same. Maybe he wouldn’t look at her the same. 

As the afternoon became night, and night drifted into the pitch black of it all, Arya wandered the palace. No one was awake, the darkness invaded every space as though it were the only thing that could possibly exist. She understood the darkness now - how it let sadness wallow within itself to let people grieve. 

Arya wasn’t sure what made her go there. She was so used to having Gendry by her side, that the middle of the night felt strange. She was used to being found by her dad, a night owl by nature, and talking with him until she was tired - but that wasn’t what life had in store for her anymore. Instead, she made her way to the kitchen. If she were lucky, she would find some alcohol that would knock her on her ass and keep her sedated until her dad woke up. 

It was quiet, but the lights were on and the ovens were still going. Arya could tell because it was blazing hot like it did when she used to sneak into the kitchen in her youth. She’d never been down there so early, so she wasn’t exactly sure if it was normal. Arya tried looking around for some form of life until a portly young man carrying things in his hands walked in. He jumped as he took sight of her, putting down his things on the countertop and bowing for her. 

“Sorry, your highness, I didn’t think anyone would be down here,” he said in a hurry, bowing again and trying to clean himself off. He had flour all over him and sweat on his brow. 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Was just looking for some food,” she lied, moving around the counter to sit down. 

“I’ll make you something, Princess,” he offered, trying to seem calm, but it was obvious that he wasn’t used to interacting with the family as much as the other members of the household. 

Looking at the clock, Arya yawned, looking back at the perky baker. “Do you really need to bake this early?” 

“For fresh bread on the table, usually,” he said, pointing over to the other counter that had dough sitting on the tabletop. In total, there were five counters in the kitchen, and usually had many people working. But it was only Arya and the young baker. 

“4am? Seriously?” 

He moved over quickly to a machine the size of a large toaster, easily fitting two loaves of bread inside if you really wanted. “We have the machines that bake it, but I’ve still got to make the dough, and the royal majesties said they like the little patterns I leave on top, so it takes a little longer,” he explained, running a hand over his hair and cleaning it quickly with a with a teatowel. He went to get some tea cake from the cupboard and something in Arya perked. 

“Can I have some?” she asked quickly. 

“Of course!” he beamed, offering her the entire plate and handed her a knife to cute it with. She sliced it as he went over to the dough on the counter, beating it out and giving it a formless shape. 

She spoke with a mouthful of food. “You don’t have to treat me like royalty, by the way. I think we’re just a family...stuck here.” 

“How is your dad?” he asked, and Arya found the cake even harder to swallow than just having it dryly go down her throat. She coughed as she stomached it.

“What takes so long to make the bread anyhow?” she asked, and the moment the subject was changed, the boy nodded, moving along. 

“The yeast has to rise. And you have to check that it’s baking properly and not burning. Do you want me to show you?” he said in return, gesturing her over. 

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled, walking over to his side. There, she extended a hand to him. “I’m Arya.”

“Hot-pie,” he took it proudly as Arya’ brow furrowed. He laughed, pretending to get frustrated with her. “Yes it’s my name, stop lookin’ at me like that.” 

Over the course of the morning, Arya found out that Hot Pie was orphaned young, his birth mother calling him Hot Pie, and the name sticking. He often says its a nickname, but confessed it was his given name because it was the only thing he replied to when given up. His adoptive family moved to Winterfell only a few years prior, and also admitted to calling the place ‘WinterHell’ because he was so forgetful with the name. Even mentioned he once said it in front of the king - to which he thought he was going to lose his head. Arya laughed when he said that. And it felt so nice to laugh again. 

Over the next week, it had become a little routine she kept in her schedule. Sleeping was hard - especially at night, and her midafternoon naps helped, but she heard some of the security guys talking about sending for the doctor to help her. A doctor was the last thing she wanted. When she heard Gendry one morning berate them for saying it, it gave her a sense of security - that he would protect her in all capacities. 

Maybe he didn’t see her any differently. 

When Gendry had left that night, she checked in on the news, and no further updates. It worried her. Arya had read up on things online - which she knew she shouldn’t have done - yet, the information said that in both cases, they should have woken up by now. It was so damn worrying. 

She was chewing on her nail when Hot Pie came into the kitchen that morning, a little tired by how wide his yawn went, then he got out all his ingredients before the two even acknowledged each other. Arya jumped up onto the countertop next to where Hot Pie was working, which made him grumble under his breath - he had told her off the day before about  _ sitting _ on kitchen tables, because people eat there. If she remembered his words they were “Why would anyone want to eat something if they knew ass had been near it.” To which he apologised for saying ass. 

“What kinda bread you making this morning?” she asked, and Hot Pie grumbled to himself as he put on his apron. 

“Rye.” 

“Ugh, boring.” 

“What’s interesting to you?” 

“Wolves.” 

He scrunched up his entire face, which made Arya scoff. “What?” 

“Make a wolf. Dare ya!” she challenged and he merely shook his head.

“That isn’t -” he stopped before standing his ground. He had to swallow hard before he said it though, but he was certainly starting to treat her less like a princess. “Why do you have to stress me out? I’m here, having a good time,” he said, and Arya laughed. 

“How’s the coffee this morning?” a voice said, it was deep and familiar and it sent a chill down Arya’s spine. She turned to see Gendry walking into the kitchen, a little disheveled, but it was what he usually looked like in the morning before Brienne got to him. 

“Great, fresh pot and everything,” Hot Pie said, although Arya knew it to be a lie. He rushed off to get it started as Gendry stood opposite Arya, a soft grin on his face as he looked at her. 

“What are you doing here?” she said, a little more aggressive than she had intended. Maybe she was used to getting away with being unfound by security for a few hours. 

“I’m your fucking bodyguard, what do you expect?” he spat back, crossing his arms. 

A large and scandalised gasp came from Hot Pie as he walked over with Gendry’s coffee. “You’re allowed to talk to her like that?” 

Arya scoffed. “He’s not allowed to. But he does because he spends hours and hours with me. How would you like it if someone called you ‘your royal bakerness’ every two seconds of the day?” 

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Hot Pie considered. 

“See?” Gendry smirked, sipping at his cup. 

“You’re both against me and I know it,” she narrowed her eyes at both of them, and they exchanged a soft laugh. 

Gendry stood to the side, keeping a close eye on Arya as she and Hot Pie talked over crafting new things to have on the breakfast spread that morning. He didn’t interrupt, and barely paid attention to them when the sun started to rise. Once breakfast was completely ready and everyone was coming down for their meal, Arya helped set the table.

It was on her way back where she heard a conversation she was never supposed to hear. 

“What time does she usually come down?” Gendry asked. Arya stuck to the wall, hearing the pair talk. 

“She’s usually here before I get in at four. I just assume she’s waiting for me,” he replied. 

“She likes you, Hot-pie. Whatever you talk about, it helps,” Gendry said, a light thumping noise, as though a heavy hand met a shoulder. 

“We don’t really talk about anything,” Hot Pie huffed. 

“Maybe that’s enough.” 

“How did you know she was here, anyway?” Hot Pie asked, and Arya chewed on her lip, waiting. 

Gendry sighed, the light shift of his shoes on the tiles seemed to echo in her ear, even when it barely made a noise at all. “I always know where she is. I like knowing she’s okay,” he said simply, and there was a part of Arya that wanted to sigh, content with her life. 

She moved back into the kitchen once they got sidetracked with talking about food and gathered more things. They acted as though nothing had gone on and continued to get food to help set up for the breakfast meal for everyone. 

The next morning, Hot Pie seemed to have something on his mind. They had both been preparing things to serve at breakfast. Arya was making her first loaf of bread without any help and Hot Pie was making something special. Once her bread was all put in the machine, she sat up on the counter, nibbling at a biscuit with her hot tea. 

“Have you talked to anyone yet?” Hot Pie asked. In small conversations, they had talked about Arya’s family. They were stunted conversations, and Hot Pie had known where to draw the line in conversations about her father. 

“You. Gendry. Who else do I need?” 

“Your siblings,” Hot Pie spat, and Arya was about to protest.

“They…” 

Hot Pie was quick to discourage her sentence. “They’d probably get it more than he or I will.” 

“You’re right,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. She jumped off the counter and looked at the thing he was making. She laughed, pointing to the creation, “that looks like a fat donkey.” Arya gripped Hot Pie’s forearm and went off out of the kitchen. 

“It’s supposed to be a wolf!” he shouted, slamming down a mountain of dough to start his new attempt. 

Arya paced outside of the room for quite a while. She wasn’t sure where to start, or even if they’d talk. She didn’t want to cry, and it was a big probability, but it was the last thing Arya wanted. She didn’t know how to handle that! Emotions were hard sometimes. She stopped, squared up at the door, and gave three tentative knocks. When there was no reply, Arya slowly opened the door. 

On the bed, Arya found Sansa sitting with her phone in hand. She looked so elegant, even when she looked so sad. Sansa put her phone down, smiling as she took Arya in. The pair hadn’t seen each other since the night. It was mainly Arya’s doing - distance was what she needed and she kept it tightly. 

“Hey,” Sansa said, as though seeing her was so unexpected, the word couldn’t be anything but surprise. 

“Hey,” Arya sighed, sitting down next to her sister, relaxing into the comfort of the pillows, “you texting the guy?” 

“Yeah. He wanted to know how I was going with everything.” 

Arya slouched closer to her sister, seeing if she could pounce if the moment arose. “Am I ever going to know who he is?” 

“No,” Sansa smiled. As the two stared each other down, Arya jumped up, and Sansa’s arm shot into the air, keeping the phone out of reach. 

“Stop! I can’t reach,” Arya bellowed, essentially wrapping herself around her sister.

“That’s the point!” Sansa yelled, giggling as Arya eventually transform it into a tight hug. Sansa stopped struggling, her arm slowly moving around Arya. The pair took each other into an embrace that was unexpected but familiar. They held each other close and waited for what felt like hours to let go. “Thanks,” Sansa whispered, placing a kiss at Arya’s crown.  

“You too,” Arya whispered back, head in her sister’s chest and giving her another tight squeeze. 

When she made her way to Robb’s quarters, she was forced to wait. Unlike Sansa, who was able to pause her life to feel the tragedy that befell their family, Robb was required to keep moving and have his life shift gears. 

Arya walked into his study, papers piled high and his laptop open with whatever news he was reading up on. Arya sat opposite him as he pushed things aside to take her in. He tried to smile, but there was something in his eye that was like guilt - that he replaced with something before it was even gone. It didn’t feel right for anyone. 

“How’s Talisa?” Arya started. He sighed, reclining back into his chair and throwing up his hands slightly. 

“She’s good. Keeps fretting about, but makes sure to tell me everything will be fine,” he shrugged. 

“She’d know,” Arya smiled, remembering that before they were engaged, Talisa was a nurse by trade. After engagement, however, she had to give most of that up. It wasn’t seen as proper, but Arya thought Robb would still let her work regardless of his role. “Why is she fretting?” 

“King.” 

One word and she knew. “Ah.” Arya chewed on her lip. “Is she scared to be Queen?” 

“No. Just wasn’t expecting it so soon. Neither of us were.” The pair sighed together. 

“You’re going to be fine. Now or later. But hopefully later.” Robb nodded, and Arya sucked in a breath for what she was considering. “I might go see them today, check in on how everyone is doing,” she said, standing up from her chair and waiting for Robb to confirm if it was the right thing to do. He smiled. 

“That’s great. I have a few meetings, so if you do, let me know everything you learn about their status,” he said, gathering up some papers as though what she said helped him more than she realised. Arya’s heart felt full at the sight. 

“See...you already sound like a King,” Arya gave over a sad smile and Robb returned it. 

“Thanks,” he nodded, getting straight back into work. 

Arya heard the sound from her youngest brother’s room before she even got to open his door. She pushed it open, finding Rickon’s room in an absolute mess, everything piled up like it was a garbage heap. She honestly couldn’t tell if this was just because their mum wasn’t around to yell at him, or his room genuinely looked like this most of the time. 

“Hey Rick,” Arya grimaced as she waded through his room to his bed, finally seeing what the noise was about. He was playing Mario Kart very loudly. He paused it, panicking as Arya sat down beside him. 

“Hey Arya! I’ve finished all my assignments, so I’m allowed to -” he stopped as he remembered who he was speaking to. “Sorry. I feel like mum is gonna walk in at any second. I’m used to covering for myself,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling weakly. 

“I know. I’ve been hiding my boots for days,” she laughed, and took up a controller from the ground. “What track are we playing?” she smiled and Rick smiled back, switching it to the right settings, allowing them both to play a few races. They each won a few rounds, lost a few, either way, they had fun. 

Jon was the easiest to sneak up on, she found, his hearing must have been suffering. She crept into his room, sat on his bed and played with his phone without him even realising it. He walked in, jumping half way out of his skin as he saw her. 

“God, you’re so quiet,” he snapped. 

“I get that a lot,” Arya shrugged. Jon walked over, taking his phone from her hand, flicking through it as he spoke.

“Robb said you wanted to go see dad and Bran today.” 

“Yeah. Considering it.” 

He paused and knelt down in front of her. “I think you should,” he said solemnly.

“Probably,” she smiled. 

“Have you heard?” he asked, patting her knee. “Lannisters are coming,” he smirked, a joke lying beneath the words that years covered. Arya beamed back. 

“Really? Which ones?” 

“Jaime and Tyrion,” he confirmed and Arya scoffed. 

“Seriously?” 

“Apparently, your mum called for ‘em,” he stood, moving off to his desk, running over a few things. Since Robb had become busy, so had Jon. The pair worked hand in hand most days, and being in charge of the future king’s security detail was a hard thing to manage under the best of times - now it was the worst. 

“What for?” 

“To help Robb. We may not trust them, but since Tyrion has counselled the Targaryen Queen, she trusts him.” 

“What about Jaime?” 

“He’s rather good at gathering information, plus Tyrion needs a bodyguard and his brother is the best choice,” Jon shrugged. 

“Or…” Arya suggested, her hand going up as far as it would go, indicating a certain person’s height. 

“Or that, yes,” Jon laughed, shaking his head. 

“I could let her know through the grapevine. The security team likes to talk,” she offered and Jon shook his head again.

“It’s okay, I’m sure she knows,” Jon tried to wink, failing and making Arya scoff. “You want me to drive you to see dad?” he asked softly. 

“No, I’ll be okay,” she said, standing up and hugging her brother. Although they had little blood between them to actually make them siblings, they felt like it, and they loved each other like it. She held onto him with everything she had, and Jon did the same. 

When she left his room, she felt a pressure off her shoulders she couldn’t explain. Then, someone nearby cleared their throat. 

In the midst of her visits, she had completely forgotten that there was a shadow behind her, keeping her company - always watchful, caring without outwardly saying it. A comforting blanket surrounding her without her even realising. Gendry stood at the edge of Jon’s door, waiting for their next destination. 

“Thank you for following me around today. It’s been a weird day. I need to go to the hospital later.” He nodded, and as she was about to walk off, his hand caught her wrist lightly. They hadn’t touched like that since that night, and it took Arya off guard. She stopped, turning back to him, swallowing hard as they faced each other. 

“Arya,” he said softly, and Arya’s heart was racing. He took a breath. “I know I haven’t outright said it to you, but I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you. No matter what,” he said, keeping her focus on him entirely. There was a beat, and the words escaped her before she even realised. 

“I like it when you say my name.” Once she did, she felt like a little girl, giggling to herself, trying to catch it as he looked at her. 

“I like saying it,” he replied with a smile and she felt less self conscious than she had a moment before. 

“Then can you help me with something?” she said, trying to avoid him seeing the redness she knew was in her cheeks. 

“Anything.” 

“Do you have any idea how to start a royal charity?” she asked. 

“No, but I can definitely learn with you,” he shrugged, and they smiled to themselves, moving along as she explained what she wanted. 

By the time that was done, some discussions with Davos and a few new teams assigned to them, Arya felt ready to go see her parents. Gendry drove her into town, got her a safe way into the hospital without people wanting to get her photo, and a safe passage through the hospital like it was nothing at all. 

Gendry stood outside of the room as Arya went in to see her brother. Like she expected, her mother was by his bedside, looking far worse than anyone in the palace did. Her hair was all out of sorts, her clothes had definitely not been washed for a while - most likely worn for multiple days, which was never her mother’s way. 

“Hey mum,” Arya said quietly. Her mother shot up, almost darting across the room. 

“Darling, what are you -” she started, embracing Arya tightly. There was a cast on her wrist and she walked with a limp because of the heavy boot she was forced to wear. She took in Arya’s features and smiled down at her, “it’s lovely to see you.” 

“How are they?” Arya finally asked, biting her lip as she looked at Bran. He was wired up to machines, monitoring everything they could. It broke Arya a little - she could barely look at him for long. 

“Bran is doing well, but we won’t know more until he wakes up,” she sighed.

“And dad?” 

“He’s still in the coma,” her mother nodded, and Arya felt the spike of tears in her eyes. “Are you doing okay, darling?” 

Then, she started to rant quickly, trying to get it all out before the tears peaked in her eyes. “I told Bran to go with you. I told him to leave the car cause I was mad and frustrated and wanted to be by myself. This wouldn’t have happened if -” 

Her mother quickly embraced her again, soothing out Arya’s worries, and looking down at her again, comfort in her eyes. “Darling, you cannot blame yourself for what happened to Bran. Do you blame yourself for what happened to your father?” 

“No, but -” 

“It was an accident. One that we cannot take back and all must live with. Bran would never blame you for what’s happened to him. He loves you.” 

“I just…” 

“It’s okay,” her mother whispered, dashing away the tear that escaped Arya’s eye as quickly as it came down, “go see your father.” 

As Arya met at Gendry’s side, he guided her down the hall - the most heavily secured place in the hospital. Arya was worried that Gendry would be stopped, but he was allowed as far through the security zone as the door to her father’s room. Arya stopped alongside him.

“I don’t think I can -” 

He interrupted her. “I’ll be right outside, nothing’s gonna happen. I promise,” he said, hand on the small of her back. She nodded, moving into the room and sitting in the chair that was nearby his bed. She could tell her mother had been there fairly recently, with blankets strewn over the furniture and a few of her mother’s things scattered around. 

After a beat of just looking at her dad, the wires and tubes all hanging off of him, helping him breath and survive, she got the courage to speak. 

“Hey dad,” she started, voice so hoarse and scared, she wondered if anymore words would form. She sniffed before she could continue. “You know I don’t like talking much. I’m not good with words. I’m scared, ya’know? I think I finally get why you never liked me going out by myself. The fear I’ll never make it home. Or you might not ever speak to me again. So, I’m scared you’re not gonna come home, or that you’ll never speak to me again. I want you to come home. Please…” she stopped as she felt the tears on her cheeks. They wouldn’t stop coming and her chest felt so tight, like breathing was the hardest thing to do when she was trying to keep herself together. And she cried again. “Please?” she gave in a small beg, clutching at her father’s hand. All she wanted was a small sign that he was there. 

But Arya wasn’t going to get that in the moment, her hands could beg for as long as they wanted - but her father needed to rest. 

As Arya dried her eyes and she cleared the room, she looked at Gendry and she saw his tie undone and earpiece hanging on his shoulder. And the next words that left her, with a heavy sigh and a little desperate were met with a smile. 

“I need a drink.” 

“Come on,” he said, arm curling around her shoulder for a short hug before eyes could see them. Then, he led her back to the car.

They drove a short distance before Gendry got out and opened the door for her, leading her to the entrance of a bar. 

“Hey! I know this place!” she said, grabbing hold of Gendry’s elbow. “Isn’t this where we -” she started as they walked into the bar. 

“Gendry!” a feminine voice yelled. Gendry smiled, moving towards the bar. 

“Hey mum,” he greeted as he moved over the bar to kiss her cheek. Gendry looked at Arya and she beamed back. 

“Mum?” Arya mouthed. He went tight lipped as he got back to sit on the stool next to Arya. 

“Mum, this is Arya,” he introduced.

“Ah, the girlfriend!” And Arya looked over to Gendry who had wide eyes and straining in his seat. 

“No, mum, she’s -” 

“Yep, that’s me. The girlfriend,” Arya said, resting her chin on her palm, loving to watch Gendry squirm. 

“Beer on tap! On the house, honey,” she said, moving away from the pair. 

“Mum, come on!” Gendry tried, only to fall back into his seat. 

“Girlfriend, huh?” Arya smiled, and she watched as Gendry’s eyes closed tight before he turned to her. 

“I never said that. She’s assuming things. Why are you playing along?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

“Free drinks?” 

“Please pay my mother.” 

“I will, don’t worry. This is just going to be fun to torture you with.” She beamed back and Gendry rested his head on the bartop. 

Before she even knew it, the night had come in, and her day was done. Exhaustion echoed in her bones, chest feeling heavy and the day wearing on her. She’d been more productive that day than she had since the accident. She talked with Gendry’s mum for a little while, and Gendry sat at the side, staying sober and trying not to slowly die inside. Arya eventually paid for the one drink she had and stood up from the stool, yawning.

“Only one?” Gendry said, standing up beside her. 

“I just needed to get it out of my system, I’m good now. Let’s head back,” she nodded and he returned it lightly, moving outside to get the car. “Thank you, Ms. Waters. You’ve been so lovely,” Arya said, grabbing hold of the bartender’s hand and the woman smiled back, so wide that it felt comforting. Like Gendry’s smile. 

“It’s no problem, come back ‘round for dinner sometime!” She almost demanded it. 

“I’ll make sure Gendry gets the memo,” Arya laughed with her. The thought didn’t seem that bad either.

They got to the palace late, and Arya was so exhausted, she got dressed for bed quickly, falling into the comfort of the duvet that felt like a goddamn cloud. 

“You’re going to sleep?” Gendry scoffed, and Arya nodded, clinging to one of her pillows.

“I think so.” 

“We’re making progress,” he said, and Arya thought he might have forgotten himself as he combed a hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear with the lightness of a feather gracing skin. She shivered. Gendry smiled, moving off, and Arya’s heart lurched. 

“Wait,” she almost shouted, making Gendry stop. He turned to her, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Can you stay tonight?” 

“Sure.” He nodded, moving to the chair near her bed and she sat up quickly.

“I mean, can you sleep...here?” She patted the vacant spot in the bed beside her. She felt so nervous, as the air filled with such silence that it was like the entire earth stood still. Then, Gendry scratched the back of his head. 

“Princess, I -” 

“Can you just call me Arya tonight? Leave your pants on if you’re so concerned, I don’t care. Just…stay,” she sighed. He paused, as though he contemplated the moment. 

“Fine. But only because you asked.” 

He was saving his own ass by saying that. He discarded his suit jacket, tossing it over the chair and taking off his belt, tie and unpacking his earpiece. After it was all done, he rolled up his sleeves, unbuttoning his shirt to take off the vest underneath and slipping the loose dress shirt back on as he fell into bed beside Arya. 

Gendry kept the distance between them, staying strictly above the covers until the glare she was firmly pressing into his temple burned him enough to find himself under the sheets. The distance stayed for a short while before Gendry fell asleep, and Arya was able to lay herself on his chest. 

Within minutes, for the first time in what felt like weeks, she was able to sleep in the comfort of night, as a heartbeat rocked her to sleep and an arm that slowly brought her in, to keep her tight to him. Arya slept so soundly, she never felt so well rested, even as she was in the midst of her slumber. 

When she woke up, the day was only just starting, the remnants of pain still lingering in the air - yet, she found none within herself. She still felt sad and angry for the pain of her family, but she felt protected in the wake of it all. Arya was also sure that when she woke, she’d be by herself - cold, alone, a bed left empty save for herself, the staff all moving about and keeping the family on their toes. Yet, she found herself clinging to the warm body beside her, the soft puffs of air as he breathed in his sleep. Gendry had kept her warm and secure - his arm keeping her to him, rolling over to her, both clinging to one another as they slept. She felt so protected and safe. 

She knew she always would be. 

With Gendry. 


	6. Sincerity Is Scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update? for my fic? unlikely but here we are. huge shoutout to the last minute beta from @doesitsaysassonmyunifrom

Gendry landed on the ground in a heap, shaking his head as he staggered back up to his feet. When Arya had said she wanted to work out, he really wasn’t expecting to get his ass kicked. With Arya it’s always a possibility, but he was well and truly being shown who was boss. She was an expert in most hand to hand fighting styles, but she excelled at kickboxing. Emphasis on kick. She’d managed to kick him in the face at least four times, which was quite the feet considering how far she had to fucking reach. 

Almost immediately, Arya had charged him, stepping up onto his thigh and locking her arm around his neck, dragging him down to be hunched in a headlock. She kept her grip tight, the perfect technique on her fingers to keep him in place. Gendry knew even if he struggled, he’d be knocked out long before he got free. 

“Tap out,” Arya laughed, grunting slightly as Gendry tried to pull away.

“Not a chance,” he replied, trying to shove her in the ribs, possibly getting an advantage. It was no use - Arya would never give up.

“I won’t stop until you pass out!” she warned him. But what she didn’t remember was the fact that Gendry was a trained marine. Gendry hooked his arm around the back of her shoulders then around her neck, bringing her down into the same headlock she inflicted upon him. Then, as soon as they were the same height, Gendry leveraged his weight against Arya, tossing them both around and onto the floor. They continued until they were on their feet again, only now, unentangled and a few feet from each other. 

“That was surprising,” Arya muttered, as though she were trying to analyse the situation a little better. 

“I think you’re forgetting why I was hired,” he said, kicking up and hitting her in the stomach. She faltered back, clutching her stomach for a brief time before jumping up and shaking off the slight pain he caused.

When they had first started training, Gendry was always hesitant to hurt Arya, to kick or punch her. When she promptly punched him in the face and caused him to bleed, he knew there was no debating it - she didn’t want him to take it easy, and she most definitely wouldn’t. Gendry knew the kick would only stun her and spur her on in turn, which was all she wanted in these types of fights.

With a smirk on her face, Arya charged him in a tackle, knocking him right on his back. Gendry had the wind knocked out of him long enough to see the jab coming. He raised his hands up, defending his face as her strikes came down hard and fast. Arya had completely mounted into his lap, which gave him an idea. 

As he blocked one of her punches, he hooked his arms around her and pulled her down, flush against him. With Arya’s leg on the outside of his hip, Gendry locked his foot over hers as his arm moved over her shoulder to overhook a lock of her body. With one hard push of his left leg, he rolled Arya onto her back and Gendry pinned her down to the floor. His hands bound around her wrists, putting them against the ground and keeping her locked into place. 

As Arya tried to get the upper hand once more, she curled her legs around his hips and jerked him forward. Gendry was forced down, forehead almost colliding with Arya’s and left them in silence, staring at one another - stunned.

From this close, Gendry wondered if Arya could hear his heartbeat, it was pounding so loudly in his ear, he thought he would go deaf. Instead, her hold from her legs relaxed and the fight that was held against him softened. His eyes drifted slightly, watching as her chest heaved to get breath, and all Gendry could see was the flashes of passion he had wished countless times. Then, Arya cleared her throat. 

Gendry let go of her wrists, unsure of what to say. “I think that’s enough for today, don’t you think?” he said, staggering back and onto his feet, moving as far away as he could and with purpose. He went towards his things, cleaning the sweat from his face with a towel. 

“Sure,” Arya cleared her throat again, moving in the opposite direction. 

Gendry grunted as he relaxed back into the mirror on the wall, drinking as much as possible before he turned his attention back to her. He watched as Arya bent over to grab her towel and water bottle, and he had to turn away quickly, because he knew where his eyes would immediately fall on. “So, how’s the plan coming?” he asked, trying to focus on anything else. 

Arya groaned, collapsing down to the floor in a heap. She stared up at the ceiling, as though she were waiting for it to collapse on top of her. “I think my mum is ready to launch everything this afternoon, but I’m still not confident with it,” she admitted, and Gendry walked over, looking down at the worry etched into her brow. 

With his foot, he jabbed at her hip a few times. “Why don’t we get back to the palace and work it out a little more?” 

Arya struggled to her feet, although Gendry didn’t know why - she was the one that was kicking his ass with little effort. She pulled herself up by grabbing Gendry’s wrist and tugging him down until she was fully on her feet. “I heard she’s getting different people of Government together to hear it,” she complained. 

“Best not fuck up,” Gendry smirked, and Arya’s expression dropped, anger filling her features. 

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” she snarled. 

“Come on, Arry, you’ve got this,” he chuckled, kicking lightly at her backside to get her moving. She squeaked at the impact before charging up behind Gendry and kicking him hard in the ass. He was rubbing at it still when they got into the car. 

 

~*~*~

 

Arya had never truly been as frustrated as she had been in that moment. When everything seemed absolutely fine, it all came crashing down. And so did her fist. She shot up from the bench and pummelled her fists into the dough that was sitting on the benchtop. In retrospect, Arya should have realised that Gendry suggested the kitchen for more than just friends sound advice - it may have been to avoid expensive property damage.

“Why is this so hard?!” she bellowed, picking up the dough and punching it into the kitchen counter, scaring the room off. 

“Arry, can you just -” Gendry tried as Arya practically pounced up to get a better angle at the dough. Gendry grabbed hold of her waist tugging her back to the mess of papers on their makeshift working space for the proposal. Occupying the kitchen didn’t seem to be much of an issue as they once thought, as most of the kitchen was used to only using three of the five work spaces, especially since half of the royals were in the hospital. “Hot Pie is making a nice shepherd's pie for dinner, and you’re ruining the base,” he explained, and Arya chewed on the inside of her lip. 

“Sorry Hot Pie,” she apologised. 

“It’s okay, I have a better dough over here,” he explained, rolling the dough into an almost perfect circle. Arya beamed, going straight out of Gendry’s arms and hurling herself at the benchtop once more. 

“Arry, stop! Just -” Gendry said, almost a laugh falling from his lips. When he had started calling her Arry, she wasn’t sure, but there was something quite beautiful with the way he said it.  Gendry wrenched her away from the pastry, and made her sit back in her spot. “What’s the matter now?” he asked, patient and without criticism. 

“How am I meant to get this proposal done in two weeks time to present to the ministers, and the fucking Lannisters that won’t seem to bloody leave!” she snarled. Arya had never been in the good books with the Lannisters, although Tyrion was usually on her side because he was scared shitless of her - they always made her feel inadequate, that she could never be good enough. That feeling was coming back stronger than ever before, even stronger than the time she had knocked Prince Joffrey on his ass, and had gotten into trouble with her father and the Lannisters. 

“Stop panicking, idiot. You’ve got it all mapped out, as if they’d say no to this,” he said, confident where Arya saw only flaws. 

“It’s so bland and annoying. I know it would help, but why is this killing me?” she complained, hitting her head onto the counter, only for the repetitive motion she wished to be interrupted by the soft touch of a hand. She opened her eyes to see Gendry’s hand on the counter, barely even registering it was there. Arya smiled to herself before she continued. 

“Why not do something else as well? You’ve got resources on your own, right? Put in some of your own stuff and open a female only gym,” he suggested, and that’s when Arya stopped. 

“What?” she asked, looking up at him with eager eyes. She wasn’t sure why, but in the light of the kitchen, his hair was growing longer than his traditional buzz cut, he almost seemed to glow in her eyes. “Have you had this idea for a while?” she smirked. Gendry shook his head, rubbing at his jaw. 

“When you kicked me in the head about two days ago,” Gendry explained, smirk spreading onto his face, “thought it was best that other girls get a chance to beat the shit out of me too.”  

“Young girls should always have the opportunity to beat you up, Gendry,” she smiled, watching as he cracked a smile at the edge of his lip.

“Ahem,” Hot Pie interrupted, making both of their heads turned, “not around the bread,” he said, grimacing at the sight. Arya was too excited about the idea though, Gendry had put something in her head, something that sparked an energy in her that she hadn’t experienced since  _ that _ night. Gendry smiled as she beamed back at him, and it made her chest flutter, a heart hammering like a drum that Gendry could only beat. 

“But can you imagine, it’ll be perfect to put it next to any other gym, and it's for all ages, but it’s for women wanting to fight and box and -” 

“And you can think about this once the proposal is done, can’t you?” 

“You sayin’ I can’t do both?” Arya felt cocky, smiling to him until he rolled his eyes. 

“If you do well on this proposal, they’re more likely to let you do things like the gym,” he told her - a raise in his brow.

“Right. Okay, let’s get back to it,” she sighed, going back to the notes in front of her, Gendry over her shoulder to help her where needed. With him being so close, Arya found it harder to concentrate than the idea of making her own gym. He was far too close for her to feel at ease. 

But once he hovered over her, she knew she had to get this over with in order to stop feeling so self conscious. If he stayed there, she’d do something completely reckless. Arya finished up the first part of her proposal and called it a day - she managed to stay as far away from Gendry as she could over the day. She remained in her room over the day, Gendry on the other side of the door, and Arya was trying not to overthink everything. 

The next day it was somewhat easier to ignore Gendry. Robb went to an event that their father was supposed to attend - Sansa and Arya decided to join him in order to feel supportive. The public were happy to see the siblings out together amidst their tragedy. Gendry was with the other bodyguards, keeping the perimeter secure as Robb’s security took charge of the interior security. 

Arya knew whatever she was feeling was ridiculous, that it was close proximity that was fueling the fire in her chest. Gendry didn’t see her like that - she was the princess. Whatever he meant that night was foolish; she frustrated him, annoyed him - he didn’t want her like she wanted him, a fire after a snowstorm kind of craving.

When Podrick came running to Arya the next morning, she was entirely surprised. Then, when he handed her the magazine, she cracked a smile and the pair started to laugh to each other. She took the magazine and went to her room before Gendry came back from getting coffee. 

The trek back for him seemed to take ages, and so she started to do pull ups in her wardrobe, pushing herself until she heard the door to her room creak open. It was definitely Gendry by the way he cautiously entered her room without knocking. 

“Gendry! You’re in the paper again.” She grunted as she fell back onto the ground, rubbing at her shoulder as she moved back into her room. 

“What? Are you serious?” Gendry groaned, seeing the magazine on the couch, waiting perfectly for him. 

“They think you’re hot this time,” Arya smiled, watching the frown on his face deepen as he looked at it. 

“I am but why they gotta publish this shit,” he sneered, looking at the cover for a brief moment before turning to Arya, “wait, did you buy this?” he asked. She shrugged. 

“Oh fuck yeah, I’m putting it up in the staff lounge.” A lie, but one that he would most definitely believe. 

“Why am I on the front cover? You’re literally right there!” he bellowed, swatting the magazine down, and Arya moved closer. 

“We’re nothing compared to the mysterious bodyguard you are,” she teased, finding her gym bag and pulling it up onto her shoulder. 

“Shut up,” he scoffed, shaking at his hoodie. “I look like a fucking twat,” he snarled, looking back at the picture of himself plastered across the magazine cover. 

“You’ve got that brooding thing that girls all go crazy for,” she said, swiftly tickling him under the chin. He moved away in a second, but watched her pass. 

“Really? What kind of girls?” he asked, and Arya rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone. 

“You are a twat.” 

 

~*~*~

 

**The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: Hot boy 

**Sansa Stark of Winterfell** @PrincessSansa: @TheRoyalMemeFamily 👀

@TheRoyalMemeFamily: @PrincessSansa date him 

@PrincessSansa: @TheRoyalMemeFamily think that spot’s already taken. So am I ✌️

 

*~*~*

 

Arya had a one track mind about certain things, if she wanted them desperately enough, she’d fight for them, tooth and nail. But trying to motivate her to do something that she saw as boring was...a challenge, to say the least. 

“I need to get to the gym,” Arya said, racing down the steps of the palace.

“No you don’t, you’ve got a proposal to work on,” Gendry reminded, to which Arya groaned, but continued onwards. 

“And when has Arya Stark worked on proposals?” a voice asked. The two looked down to the foyer, to see a well kept, yet shaggy haired man. 

“Theon! What are you doing here?” Arya beamed, racing down the remaining stairs to launch herself into a hug with him. Gendry knew little of Theon Greyjoy, a close friend and lord of a small province in the South. As far as Gendry knew, the family hadn’t seen him in over three years. This was unexpected. 

“I came for Robb, he called and said he wanted a hand as everything is getting a bit chaotic.” He said, to which Arya agreed with a sigh. “How’s your sister?” 

Arya paused, taking a set back from him. “Why are you asking?” 

“She knows I was coming down. We’re going for bunch,” he explained.

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking at him with curiosity in her eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied, looking between Gendry and Arya. 

“Nothing.” 

Theon moved on, greeting Gendry briefly before moving up the stairs and heading towards the rooms he must have known from heart. Arya looked up the stairs, a powerfully wicked look graced her face, and Gendry looked at her cautiously. 

“Twenty quid says Sansa is dating Theon,” Arya said, and Gendry smirked. 

“A hundred says it isn’t.” 

“You’re on.” Arya and Gendry clasped hands briefly before she raced off again. 

“You still have to work on the fucking proposal, Arya!” he snapped, only to hear Arya giggling off into the distance, moving towards the cars waiting for their royal passengers. Maybe a few kicks to his head would set her mind into the right place. 

Over the coming days, Gendry had been struggling with his proximity to Arya. She was always so close that trying to figure out how the hell he was meant to navigate their relationship was impossible. And regarding it as a relationship was problematic - but there was always something there that connected them more than just being a protector and protectee. 

On a fools whim, he caught Podrick at lunch before meeting with their respective protectees. Gendry awkwardly approached Pod, who was drinking coffee, unbeknownst to the conversation that would be happening. 

“Pod, can I talk to you?” he asked, the voice coming out was far more stunted than Gendry had anticipated. 

“What’s up?” Pod asked, sipping one last time before letting his coffee rest gently in his hand. 

“You spend a lot of time with people in the palace and I was wondering if anything gets...too personal?” Gendry asked, clearing his throat when he felt the heat rise in his cheeks. 

“What do you mean? Like how you’re friends with Jon and Robb? Or Hot pie in the kitchen?” he replied, and Gendry grimaced. 

“No, more like…” Gendry stopped himself when Pod’s eyebrow quirked. With a heart beating fast and fear his new best friend, his jaw set tight. 

“What’s this about?” Pod asked. 

“It’s nothing,” Gendry shook his head before clapping a hand to Pod’s shoulder, “sorry for wastin’ your time.” 

Gods, he felt like an idiot. 

 

~*~*~

 

Podrick never did this. He was ashamed of it really, but didn’t know who else would understand. 

**12:55pm - Podrick Payne:** Hi your Highness

**12:56pm - Sansa Stark:** Hello Podrick, is something the matter?

**12:57pm - Podrick Payne:** do you think Gendry is in love with me?

**12:57pm - Sansa Stark:** ye 

**12:57pm - Podrick Payne:** knew it

**12:58pm - Sansa Stark:** remember Walter? 

**12:58pm - Podrick Payne:** ah....Walter. poor bloke never knew what hit him

**12:58pm - Sansa Stark:** it's your ass tho, we all fall for it

**12:59pm - Podrick Payne:** yeah. i know

**12:59pm - Sansa Stark:** ok. Goodbye Podrick. 

**1:00pm - Podrick Payne:** thank you, your highness

And that was the only conversation Sansa and Podrick ever truly had. 

 

~*~*~

 

Sansa put away her phone, finally returning her attention back to Arya. The pair had been hanging out since the night before, watching movies and gossiping about some of the lords and ladies they had heard rumours about. Arya still hadn’t heard anything about who Sansa was dating. She was still sure it was Theon. 

“When are you going to tell him?” Sansa asked quickly, surprising Arya. It also wasn’t a question that Arya was expecting. 

“Tell him?” 

“Gendry.” 

“The hell does that mean?” Arya lied - knowing exactly what her sister’s meaning was. 

“Come on Arya. Don’t play dumb,” Sansa laughed, and Arya felt her face go hot. What the hell was she supposed to do when she was asked this?

“I can when I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Arya said, pulling her legs up to her chest, she tried to find the tv remote amongst the heaping bounds of the duvet. 

“Arya, you have to acknowledge that you and Gendry aren’t just…” Sansa stopped, and Arya’s breathing stopped as well. Her sister saw past everything, and it was hard to know where her facts started and theories ended. “Well aren’t just like me and Sandor,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, Sandor is a dick,” Arya reminded. 

“Arya,” Sansa laughed, tossing her pillow hard into Arya’s face, “You know what I mean.” 

“Whatever,” Arya muttered. 

Both of their phones buzzed, and Arya was glad she could get away from the conversation, only to be met with the most shocking revelation of the entire day. 

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

**1:14pm - Bran:**

****

**1:14pm - Arya:**

****

**1:15pm - Robb:** Holy shit, is everyone going to the hospital? 

**1:15pm - Sansa:** I’m getting my shoes on, everyone move! 

**1:15pm - Gendry:** I’ve got a car waiting, everyone get downstairs if you’re at the palace

**1:15pm - Jon:** This is amazing. Thanks for the help Gendry

**1:16pm - Rickon:**

****

**1:17pm - Dadvos:** I shall notify the hospital of your arrival. Good to hear from you, prince Bran

**1:30pm - Dadvos:** I just got back from talking to the hospital - Prince Bran, did you make them hold off the announcement so you could find a meme? 

**1:30pm - Bran:** I didn’t have it saved 

**1:31pm - Arya:** I’m PISSING, SOMEONE, HELP! I CAN’T BREATHE!

**1:31pm - Sansa:** Thank god we’re on our way to a hospital, I think my lung’s collapsed 

 

*

 

**The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: BREAKING NEWS! Sources say that Prince Bran awoke from his coma, only to stop staff from announcing the news so he could send a meme to his family 

RealBranStark: @TheRoyalMemeFamily 

AryaStark: @RealBranStark YOU WERE JUST IN A COMA, PLS STOP

 

*

 

Arya was so amped up in the car, she could barely sit still. Sansa had her hand on Arya’s thigh, keeping her in place. 

“You have to stop moving!” Sansa snapped, a slight laugh in her words. 

“Seriously Arya, stop movin’ about, I can’t see out the back if you’re like that,” Gendry mumbled in the drivers seat, the two sisters peeking out the window to check where they were. They were only a few minutes out. It made Arya jump out of her seat and clasp her hands gently around Gendry’s neck. She kissed at his cheek as she almost cheered. 

“You aren’t reversing! It doesn’t matter, Bran is awake!” she beamed, and she heard Gendry chuckle to himself as she was yanked back down next to Sansa. 

“Just stop Arya, he’s getting there as fast as he can,” Sansa warned, keeping Arya under her arm this time, even with Arya bouncing in her seat.

“He’s awake,” Arya repeated softly. 

“I know, I know.” Sansa kissed at Arya’s crown, snaking her hand with Arya’s, their bond so tight - their knuckles were turning white. Gendry ended up driving so fast to the hospital, that police escorts couldn’t even keep up. 

Gendry led the way up to the hospital room. She hadn’t even realised it  but as they walked - Sansa getting ahead of them - Arya linked her hand with his, stopping as they got to the threshold.There was something in the depths of her belly that told her to stay put, to not see the brother she did this to. Then, Gendry got into her space, leaning to her gently. 

“Go,” he whispered, and as his breath touched her ear, she moved off her spot. Gendry’s hand lingered on her palm for a moment, but she saw her younger brother sitting up in bed with a smile gracing his lips and the glasses on his face that made him look so much more alive.

“Bran!” she beamed, jumping up onto the edge of the bed. Arya saw the rest of her siblings pour into the room, smiling just as wide as Arya and Sansa. The two sisters sat on the bed, either side of Bran as the brothers all piled at the end.

“How are you feeling, Bran?” Robb asked. 

“Can’t feel my legs, but great otherwise,” Bran said, and the room went stiff. Bran grimaced, realising his words, “sorry, that was meant to be a joke but it was too soon, wasn’t it?” 

“A bit,” Jon replied, a hand on the back of his neck. 

“I’m fine. I am,” Bran urged, and the siblings all nodded, “it’s going to get some getting used to, but nothing that can’t be fixed. I’m fine.” They sighed at his words, which was met with his own solmen sigh. “Plus, if I become a professor, the wheelchair will bring the whole look together,” he said, breaking out the fingers guns he had perfected over the years. The room burst into laughter, watching as the newly disabled boy joked about his future.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to make jokes right now,” Rickon chuckled, and Arya shook her head.

“You guys are laughing,” Bran shrugged, to which they all laughed a little more. 

They all stayed with Bran, Robb going off to check on their dad after an hour or so, but they caught Bran up on everything. Arya apologised, but Bran didn’t blame her - for any of it. He was quite zen about the entire thing, but Arya thought it may have been the shock of it all, it might not have sunk in. Yet again, Bran was the kind of kid to accept things as they were and move on - he didn’t like to dwell. 

When Robb tumbled into the room again, they all stood still. He was panting, completely out of breath and excitement in his eyes.

“Guys,” he breathed, “dad’s awake.” 

They all turned to Bran, who was practically ripping the blankets from his body. “Go! I’ll be right here. I’ll get one of the nurses to help me into a chair,” he said, and Arya shot up, she was moving before she even knew where she was going. She’d made it that way once, but she could do it. 

“We’ll see you in there,” she shouted over her shoulder, hair in her face as she turned briefly. She kept going, running as fast as her body would take her. 

“Arya, slow down,” Gendry called out, but Arya kept going.

“Did he just call her Arya?” It wasn’t until she heard Jon say it, that she realised their mistake. The casual way he said it - no hesitation, kind and tender. She’d have to worry about it later, because when she got there, Arya let out a breath that could be called a cry. Her dad sat up in bed, bandages across his skull, their mother speaking softly to him and a doctor at the edge of the bed. When he saw Arya, he ushered her out, waiting for the group to come close and gather. 

As everyone arrived, save for Bran, the doctor spoke. “Be...careful with him,” he started, “the king has experienced quite a traumatic brain injury, his memory is a little clouded, we aren’t sure how much he retains right now, so be very cautious.” He nodded, as though slowly allowing them all to process the news. Arya felt stuck, watching as Robb, Jon, and Sansa all moved into the room. 

“Hey dad,” Robb said, voice quite soft that it didn’t really sound like Robb anymore. 

“Robb! My boy, come here,” her dad spoke, so cheerful, Arya’s heart ached. She moved in finally, slowly maneuvering her way to her father’s side. “Jon, Sansa!” he said as they hugged his side gently, each taking their turn. 

“Are you alright, dad? How are you feeling?” Sansa asked, hand on his shoulder as he held her hand gently. 

“I feel a bit bruised, but I can’t complain. The staff have been amazing,” he explained, the doctor standing at the edge of the room smiled as Ned took him in. 

“The king doesn’t remember the accident very well, so we’re just taking things slow,” the doctor said, Rickon by his side, as though he were cautious. Bran was wheeled in, fixing up his blanket over his legs, and Rickon gripped onto the handle for some support. 

“Rickon, what have you done to your hair? And Bran! My boy!” When their father recognised him, Rickon smiled with his goofy grin, Bran beside him giving a soft wave. Yet, Arya was left...and it felt wrong. 

“Do you remember who I am?” Arya asked, taking his hand, eager to hear his voice - the one he reserved for her and only her. 

“Of course I do,” he said, slowly, trying to find the words, and something about that worried her more, “where abouts do you live within the kingdom?” he asked, and Arya pulled her hand away, looking over her father’s face, who stared back at her with unfeeling eyes. Like he looked at anyone else. But it wasn’t how he looked at Arya. 

“ _ Dad _ ,” Jon said, surprise written into the tone, “it’s...Arya.” 

Ned looked at her, confusion on his face, “Right. Right.” Arya felt her heart in her throat, the words sounding strangled, caught in the place of where courage could come through. Instead of facing it, Arya ran. She pushed passed her siblings and ran as fast as her feet would take her. She couldn’t do this. And the tears came. 

“Arya!” Sansa yelled. 

 

~*~*~

 

The family became frantic, whispering and trying to figure out what happened. Gendry walked to the Queen, “I have her, your majesty,” he said. 

“Arya? I know that name,” The king muttered to himself. 

“Dad, just take it easy,” Sansa said, stroking the king’s cheek, “it’ll be okay.” She suddenly looked to Gendry and nodded, trust on her face. And Gendry ran too. He asked as many people as he could, trying to find anyone with information. Eventually he made his way to the bottom floor. Trying to work out what Arya’s state of mind would be. It felt like a whirlwind was rushing around him, he was barely able to stay in one spot for more than a few seconds. 

His heart was pounding, loud and hammering in his ears as he tried to think of where she would have gone. 

Out of sight from the waiting public. 

Nowhere in the hospital for sure. Too many people to watch her. 

Restaurants and businesses to either side. 

Woods out back. 

There. 

Gendry raced down the hall, finding the exit out of the back, a few doctors out smoking on their break. As he looked at them, they pointed out to a small path leading to the woods. He dashed down the path, finding the fork in three different paths and he swore to himself, running down one and calling out Arya’s name, becoming more and more irritated as time dragged on. 

The woods were so vast, it was hard to find himself in the mess of trees. It had been an hour and a half when Gendry finally found a clearing down one of the paths, which took a lot of struggling with branches to find - but he knew Arya would fit into the gaps. 

Arya stood in the middle of the clearing, panting hard before she screamed. She was yelling with everything she had in her. It was a broken, heart wrenching sound that broke him apart. She bellowed until her voice became hoarse and ragged. She took in another heated breath, panting hard and letting it out all over again. Gendry ran over to her, watching as she continued to yell until her body was fighting against her own pain. 

“Arya!” he snapped, seeing her turn to him sharply, then back again, hands going to her face. The afternoon sun came in, the time gone by in Arya’s disappearance, taking the light and turning it into different hues of pink. Even in the midst of the beauty, the clearing’s trees creating a safe space for them both, it still contained a multitude of sorrows for Arya. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” she said, trudging off, but Gendry was hot on her tail. The grass was long, making it hard to navigate towards her, but it was hard for Arya too - with every step forward, she was huffing and kicking her way through.

“Stop, right now!” he said, catching up to her, but it seemed like she didn’t even notice, keeping her pace. Finally, the grass thinned out, letting their walking become unencumbered. 

“Stay away!” 

“Stop!” he said, wrenching her back to face him. Her face was red, eyes too, stained with tears that had fallen. Her feet skid across the grass and dirt, kicking up soft dust clouds that were blown away by the afternoon wind. 

He wanted to feel bad, but he felt frustrated for her -  _ about her _ . “You fucking idiot. You are the stupidest person in this entire fucking town, you know that?” he snarled and she looked at him with defiance in her eyes. She didn’t want to be seen like this, and now that he was here, she could take everything out on him. 

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she said, shoving hard into his chest, almost knocking him on his ass. Gendry caught himself on a tree, pushing himself back to Arya, making sure to keep his skin as close to hers as he could. He wasn’t losing her again. 

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.” He was harsh, but he wasn’t backing down, even when she looked like she would rip his throat out with her teeth. “You’ve been missing for two hours, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Fuck you! You don’t need to know!” Arya pulled her arm out of his grasp, but Gendry stepped into her to fill the gap. 

“That was stupid and reckless! What the hell were you thinking?” 

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Arya shoved him again and he caught her wrist again, not letting her go, regardless of however much she wanted to run. 

“If you make me worry about you like that again, I’ll -” 

Arya kicked at his shin, knocking him back slightly. “You’ll what? Lock me in my room? Seal every exit so I can’t escape you!?” 

He’d go through anything for Arya; bruise, bleed, have dirt kicked into his eyes, pummelled to the ground. Anything to make sure he wasn’t any further from her than that time. Regardless of how much he set off every fight in his body, he was bound to her. 

“I’m not going to do any of that, but you have to stop being so fucking reckless,” he tried, but Arya was ready for every fight that Gendry could give. 

“Why does it even matter!” she said, almost breaking into an angry cry. 

“Because it does!” he roared back. 

“What does any of it matter? There’s no point for you to be -” 

The words that came next were unexpected, desperate for understanding, and longing for their own release. 

“I’m in love with you,  _ you idiot! _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a magazine cover for a fic? yeah....i was bored and had writers block but ya know what? i was being great in my own way.


	7. Heartbeat (When Did It Ever Get To Be So Loud)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what i'm saying is - Bran does slam poetry. that's it. that's the chapter. anyway......enjoy 👀👀👀

He swallowed. He swallowed  _ hard _ . Gendry couldn’t believe he even fucking said it. And now, it was out in the open. His jaw clenched tight, shoulders straightening as his whole body went tense. With the stunned way she stared at him, he really wasn’t sure what the hell was going to happen. 

“What?” Arya said, her voice a whisper. The anger that had once taken her by storm was gone, and what remained was a girl - beautiful and struck by his words. It broke him. He wanted to fall to his knees and confess it all again for that voice. But in the end, his suit kept him in position, hard clenched hands stopping him for faltering. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied back sternly.

“Did you just say you -”

“It doesn’t matter what I said,” he snapped. Arya stook a step closer to Gendry. He didn’t have the strength the step back, no matter how much he wanted distance. 

“It does to me,” she said, voice so soft, it was almost begging him to say what he needed to. Instead, fear took its place. 

“Listen to me, Arya,” he said, looking down at her with as much malice as his body held - looking at her made it so fucking difficult, “you’re the princess, everyone is looking to you to be strong. I’m here to protect you, that’s it.” 

“But you’re in love with me,” she said, hand on his cheek. Gendry reached up, trying not to shake. He took her fingers delicately and pushed them back to her side. 

“So are thousands of other people,” he replied weakly, looking down at his shoes. “Princess. I know my place. Know yours. Get back to the palace,” he said, gesturing his hand back to the street where the car was waiting. There was silence before Arya moved, her feet crunching on sticks and branches. Gendry tried so hard to move, but his body needed strength. He felt so weak after what he said - the words of a man that hated himself...and put it all on the woman he loved. 

 

*~*~*

 

The night felt like it dragged, stuck in sinking earth that wouldn’t let loose. Arya tossed over again and again, wondering what the hell happened that afternoon. His words echoed in her mind, badgering her until she curled her pillow around her head to silence everything. The tension in her body was too much - mind working when she wanted it blank. 

In a huff, she shoved the pillow from her head and chewed on her lip. She slowly snaked her hand passed the waistband of her pajama shorts and underwear. If her mind was completely taken over by bliss, than that was what had to be done. As she stroked the bundle of nerves, her toes curled and she became more confident and comfortable with her own touch. 

The confusion of her mind had finally caught up to her, as she imagined Gendry in between her thighs, face hidden behind the crest of her body, eyes staring back at her with desire that made her heart clench tight. 

Arya’s hand stopped, a huff falling from her lips. 

She shouldn’t be thinking things like that. 

But desperation for sleep kept her fingers tentatively between her legs. 

And instead of fighting her mind, she let it slip into where it wanted to land, his hand in her place and the man that loved her doing whatever he wanted to her body. As her body came apart - thigh shaking and toes curling so hard she wondered how they remained that way without cramping - she tried to ignore the thoughts that had sprung up in her desperate daydream. Instead, she focused on the remnants of her orgasm, riding it out slowly until sleep came far easier than before. 

However, she dreams provided no escape from the wandering thoughts. Gendry taking her in all the ways she wanted, the guilty pleasures she kept to herself. She woke with a feverish need and her face felt flush. In the end, all she could do was wait in her room, pretending she didn’t feel the slight aching in between her legs where he could have been.  

In a text, she messaged Gendry, asking about coffee. But as hours ticked by, no knock at her door, she cradled her legs and rested her cheek on her knees, waiting for her phone to go. She didn’t pine. She didn’t long for him. Arya was just frustrated. Why would he say it and act so cold? Why would he do that when he knew she was hurting?

Arya stayed in bed, watching as the day came in and the afternoon went - scrolling for hours on social media and trying to find joy without leaving her room. In the end, she felt her stomach turn as she saw the photos of her sister. Arya wasn’t sure why, but she felt sick, as though something were missing from her belly. Sansa looked happy as she was out for brunch, Theon smiling with her as they joked over coffee. And Arya felt empty. 

Throwing her phone to the other side of the bed, Arya wanted to scream into her pillow. The reality was, Arya was lonely - ignored and left to be alone. She didn’t deserve this, stuck with the comfort of her bed that still left her cold amongst the sheets. 

In the night, there was a soft rapping at her door. Arya perked, watching as the door opened up. Instead of the suit that had become more routine as of late, she saw her tall redheaded sister. Arya sighed, retreating back into her bed as Sansa moved into the room. Over her shoulder, Arya saw Gendry standing guard, not even looking into the room - to see if Arya was even there. It made her want to claw at the walls, and rip apart the room - who was he to act like he was so above her all of a sudden. 

“So, I heard you haven’t left your room all day,” Sansa said, moving into the room cautiously, “you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Arya grumbled, tucking her legs up to her chest again. 

“I wanted to complain, can you listen?” 

“Sure,” Arya said, shuffling along in her bed, but not paying much mind to her sister. Sansa moved under the sheets and groaned as she managed to get comfortable. Then, Sansa started to shuffle through her phone, looking at text messages and showing Arya quick glimpses. 

“The boy, you know,  _ the _  boy. He’s being all distant now, and I thought we were just getting things exactly where we needed. I’ve been trying to talk to him, be all nice and understanding but he’s all -” 

As Sansa rattled on, Arya felt her teeth clenching tight and her hands binding in her sheets. 

“You’re complaining about your love life that isn’t even in trouble cause he’s standing right in front you. You’re both just being twats,” Arya huffed, facing towards the windows. Sansa smacked at Arya’s thigh, shame and guilt forcing Arya to stay focused on the window. It was raining. When wasn’t it, these days?

“Ok, there’s something up with you, spill,” Sansa urged. Instead, Arya held herself closer. “Is this about dad?” Arya huddled herself closer. 

“Don’t pretend you understand. I’m the only one he’s forgotten and I’m the closest to him,” Arya replied in a rush, feeling Sansa’s hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to face her sister. But Arya pulled back in on herself. 

“Arya, dad remembers me as a fifteen year old. He asked me how my exams are going,” Sansa explained, but that didn’t mean shit. Arya was only a year or so younger than Sansa, and yet, he had forgotten Arya out of all of them? It wasn’t fair. 

“Can you just leave? I’m not in the mood,” she muttered, keeping herself coiled like a snake, ready to attack again if her sister talked. For whatever reason, she felt angry - an anger that was fueled by nothing other than happiness. She thought she had it for a split second, and then it was snatched away by the person giving it. 

Her sister mumbled under her breath, ripping the blankets from her form and going towards Arya’s bedroom door. Sansa paused at the threshold, the door creaking as it opened. Arya wanted to turn to see Gendry, to know what he was thinking. Instead, she kept watching her eye on the falling water, watching it drip down from the top of the window to the bottom of the frame. “You can talk to me, you know?” Sansa said, voice soft - caring. 

“Whatever,” Arya replied. Sansa sighed and shut the door behind her. 

Arya was alone for the rest of the night, getting food to her room from Hot-pie because he was worried. Unlike someone. She supposed, after her mood, she was jealous of everyone in her family. She felt like they got everything she didn’t - she was missing the master plan of happiness within the confines of royalty. 

Why couldn’t she have that - just a small thing that meant the world to her, even in the sad times. Now, it was just torture, a way for Gendry to have the upper hand and taunt her. 

She hated him for making her feel like that. That she wasn’t allowed to say or do what she wanted. All because he was afraid. What a bastard. 

The next day, Arya refused to stay in her room. She went around the palace grounds, Gendry on her heels and not even saying a word. He just kept up with her and made sure she wasn’t doing anything - he refused to let her go on a certain trail, and he was beginning to wear suits like they were always his uniform. Made her roll her eyes. Like an idiot, he was following the rules. 

Arya then sat in meeting with Davos, where he explained that her proposal meeting would be pushed back due to Bran and her father being the centre of the news cycle. It also meant that Robb had a chance to breathe - giving him time in the spotlight without having him completely take over the reigns of king. Arya could only think how much stress he was under, but she didn’t feel it her place to speak with him just yet. 

As she left to head out again, she ran into Jon. He came bounding towards her, pulling her into his arms and holding her as tightly as he could. It took Arya a bit too long to realise why he wasn’t letting her go. Pity did that to him - made him friendlier. Arya hated that, scowling at her brother. He didn’t even seem to notice that she was recoiled by him in that moment. 

With his hand on her cheek, he looked down at her, pleading with just a look in his eyes. 

“Hey, have you considered going to the hospital?” he asked, and Arya scoff. 

“Why? I’m fine,” she shrugged, trying to play off the question. Maybe he would drop it then. 

“Arya,” Jon sighed. She didn’t like that. He always had a way of making her feel small, that she’d always be little in his eyes. “You have to go visit dad.” 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Arya snapped, shoving Jon’s hand away. He looked shocked, that she would ever be as spiteful as that moment. 

“He’s getting better, surely you could -” Jon tried, but Arya chewed on the inside of her lip. 

“I’m going for a run,” she replied, fixing up her jacket and looking at the floor. Her sneakers squeaked against the tiles, the only other sound radiating in the area besides for the three of them breathing. 

“It’s late,” Jon replied, his tone harsher than before - as though he were truly looking down on her now. Jon wasn’t like that, but neither was Arya. They were never going to see eye to eye on this. 

“Then I’ll go to the gym downstairs, gods,” she huffed, going down the stairs. Jon and Gendry had a silent conversation - she didn’t pry, she just wanted to get away. It was easier, why should she be the one to get hurt when everything else was against her. She could stay at home, or go into town, and nothing else even mattered. 

As she started to go towards the palace gym area, her arm was wrenched back, forcing her to collide with Gendry behind her. He started down at her angrily. 

“Regardless if he knows who you are or not, you still need to go see him,” he said, some of the only words he had said to her in days. 

And Arya felt spiteful. Who was he to say what she should do when it came to fathers? How would he know a damn thing. “Speaking from experience, are we?” she barked back, watching as his face contorted uncomfortably. She had wounded him deeper than she anticipated. Served him right. 

“Get back to your fucking room, you’re not going to the gym,” he said, taking a firm hold of her arm and taking her back up the stairs. 

“Don’t treat me like a child,” she said, clawing at his hand as best she could whilst trying to drag her feet against the tiles to no avail. 

“I can if you’re acting like one,” he snapped, and Arya kicked at the back of his knee, making him buckle down to the floor before shooting back up to face her. 

“I’m going to get you fired for talking to me like that,” she scowled, trying her best to sound like anything but a spoiled child. She knew she did anyway, though. 

“Be my fucking guest. Gets me away from you,” he replied harshly. 

“Fuck you,” she spat, Gendry letting her go, a hard shove of her arm and he moved ahead of her. His shoulders were tense, and hands were bound so tight, Arya could see his fingers were white. 

She moved slowly behind him, making her way to her room and watched as he never once turned to see if she were behind him. 

It occurred to her that he might not even have cared. 

Gendry stood against the frame of her door, watching the opposite windows and not glancing once at her. Shutting her door, she touched at the frame, the closest thing to him. 

All that was left between them now was spite. 

And even when she hated him; she  _ hated _  that she hated him. 

Within the next few days, they didn’t talk. Arya went to the kitchen, she talked to Hot-pie. He asked her questions about the proposal. Gendry stayed outside. He followed wherever she went, but neither of them spoke. 

Maybe it was for the best. 

Arya knew that whenever he spoke to her, all she wanted to do was scream - to yell about how much he could be saying without being a twat about it. But instead, silence was the next best option. 

Nothing came easy for Arya, it seemed. 

As she was hauling some books from the family library to her room, she spotted her brother being wheeled in. Bran’s smile was so wide, it filled Arya was a joy she couldn’t describe. She went running to him, not caring about the books that fell from fell from her arms - they were on building organisations, and running successful businesses - they meant nothing compared to the brother in front of her 

“You’re home!?” she shouted as she reached him. Bran smiled, taking the books from her hands and placing them in his lap. He didn’t say anything, just wheeling himself off as Gendry caught up to her. He handed her the remaining books, only for her to hand them to Bran. The two siblings kept their pace with one another, as Bran lead his way around the bottom floor of the palace. 

It made Arya sad - the palace wasn’t designed to be accessible - or widely accessible - to the disabled. Maybe they were already organising new things, plans to make it easier for Bran to move about? She wasn’t exactly in contact with her family a lot these days, she wouldn’t know. 

Bran suddenly stopped at the edge of the back porch, looking out onto the back garden before he flipped through one of Arya’s books. “You know, you would have found out I was coming home if you visited the hospital,” he said, and Arya turned to him. 

It felt like he was reading her fucking mind. 

As her brow furrowed, she shook her head and scoffed at his words. “I had other shit going on, why do I need to baby you?”

“Arya, cut the bullshit. You’re blaming yourself for what happened to me. Which, you shouldn’t.” Bran continued reading the book, as though he hadn’t just dropped the biggest fucking bomb on her. 

He was right, and she disliked that he was being all insightful now. 

Arya sighed, combing her hair out of her face and settling down on the first step next to Bran’s wheels. “Bran, I was the reason -” 

“I took my seat belt off,” he started, finally looking at Arya. He leaned forward, hand on her shoulder. “I wanted to sit in the back away from mum and dad to watch one of my lectures. If I had stayed in my seat, I wouldn’t have lost the use of my legs,” he said, patting at his knee. It barely budged. Yet, it didn’t seem to bother Bran in the slightest. He had seemed to be completely calm since waking up. It worried her. 

“But…” 

“Arya, it’s okay. I really don’t mind. Nothing truly changed, I’m still me,” he said, smile weaker than it was before, and Arya could feel her heart sinking into her stomach. 

“I know, I just -” 

“While I can not change what was my decision, it was my decision nonetheless and I am content to learn about the newest stage of my time on this land.” He sounded completely different, gaze drifting off to the garden, as though he saw something far wider and more beautiful than she did. 

“I’m sorry you were in there in the first place,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand. Then, suddenly, he did a finger gun with his free hand. 

“Bruh, this’ll be so good for disability services now we can get some key problems through parliament,” he said, nodding confidently to himself. 

“Are you seriously making this into a thing you can campaign with or something?” she laughed, trying her hardest not to, but Bran was a hurricane of happiness, flipping back onto his wheels, and tilting back in his chair like the teenage boy he was. He acted as though he were a teenage boy that saw an abandoned wheelchair and finally got the chance to perform all the stunts he always wanted to. Somehow, he seemed to be enjoying it far more standing. 

“Well, yeah. I’m a fucking genius,” he scoffed, leaning back into his chair. 

“Idiot,” Arya scoffed, standing up and taking her books from Bran’s lap. 

“I know you wanted to talk to your bodyguard, I was fine with it,” he whispered to her suddenly and Arya paused taking the last book. 

“What are you -” 

“Our little secret then, I guess,” he shrugged, wheeling himself back quickly and tilting himself on one wheel. “I’m already great at tricks, watch!” he said, spinning around and the lifted wheel hit back down on the ground hard and Bran grunted at the shock before trying it again. 

Arya rolled her eyes. “You’re the biggest idiot I know.” 

Bran smiled, wheeling himself around when Rickon came out onto the porch. “You think you can get another chair here? I wanna play wheelchair football in the ballroom,” he said, completely out of breath. 

“Oh fuck! I didn’t even think about that,” Bran said, fiddling with the pockets on his chair until he came back with his phone. “I’m calling Davos,” he said and Rickon cheered. Arya watched in amazement as the pair waited intently for Davos to answer the phone. 

Okay, Arya knew two of the biggest idiots in the world. And they were her brothers. 

Arya hitched up her books, walking back inside. Gendry had been stood at the doors, barely even looking at her as she came back inside, but following after her as she walked back to her room. 

He picked up all the books she dropped, eventually holding a majority of the stack that Arya had struggled with. At her desk, he set them down, pausing for a moment in her room before walking away and shutting the door behind him. She was getting more used to seeing his back than his face these days, and it made her heart lurch. 

As she settling in at her desk, opening up her book, she laid her head in the mess of notes, struggling to think about anything other than that stupid man that stood on the other side of her door. 

The next day, Arya was ready in her gym gear, tying up her hair when she met Gendry in the hallway. He looked at her strangely, which was different than his clear determination to ignore her. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, voice deep and darker than normal. Arya ignored the way her heart skipped, simply heading towards the staircase. Flicking her pony tail as she finished tying it, she looked back to him. 

“I’m going out today,” she said, hitching up the bag on her shoulder. As she went to go, Gendry put out his hand, stopping her in her tracks. 

“Unless it’s for events, or you’re seeing friends, you’re not allowed out of the palace,” he said, his chin raised and eyes focusing past her - she wasn’t even there to him, was she? 

“What the fuck is this new rule?” she said, pushing hard into his chest. He didn’t budge. And she wanted to kick him in between the legs to get any kind of response out of the bastard. 

“I made it because I let you have too much leniency. You can’t just do whatever you want, your life could be in danger,” he said, and Arya groaned, kicking at his shin, only for him to dodge it this time. 

“Why should you care? Tell me,” she said, stepping into him. Gendry stepped back, and part of her wanted to follow, be within his gravity - just to understand what he was thinking. 

“Just go.” He pointed over her shoulder, making her go back towards her room. Instead, she stayed put, scowling hard at him. “And don’t try the exits, they’ve all been sealed.” He warned. 

“I hate you,” she said, and Gendry turned, walking off.  _ Always walking away.  _

“Good.” Arya stopped. She wanted to call out his name and ask what he meant. Could he be…

No. 

It was stupid. 

Gendry knew who he was - he was not only a commoner, but personal aid to the royal family. He didn’t have the right to confess what he meant. And Arya was a fool for falling for it all - her heart striving for something she couldn’t have. 

He was doing this all for the two of them. 

She needed to know that.

But there was still a lingering part of her that wanted to ignore it all and give into it. 

She didn’t know what side of her would win out in the end. 

A week had gone by, Arya’s proposal date was now set, and she was studying up in her room. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her jeans were black to hide all the stains from her dripping foods, and her shirt kept them from being secret with the white colour and graphic print on her  _ Sigrid _  shirt. 

With a pen in her mouth, muttering to herself, Arya was going over it with the speech she had written, when she heard a loud commotion outside. There was part of her that was willing to ignore it - put on her noise cancelling headphones, and keep up her practicing - but there was a pull in her gut that said something was wrong. 

Arya put her notes back down, moving to her door. Outside, she saw all the security talking into their comms, shouting out and covering up all windows as quickly as possible - whilst also checking they were locked. Arya chewed on her lip, catching Pod as he passed her. She caught onto his arm, for him to turn in a frantic mess. Arya looked around to find Gendry gone. He wasn’t even at her door anymore. Something didn’t feel right. 

“We’re on lockdown everyone!” Pod said into his comms, as though he were repeating a message over and over until everyone was getting it. 

“What’s going on?” Arya said. 

“Someone’s broken past the gate, sensors are catching him near the residency,” he said, and Arya wanted to launch from her room - find her family, keep them within arms reach, but Pod stepped into her, pushing her back into her room. “Everyone remain in your rooms until we give further notice,” he explained. But, she was alone. And she felt scared

“Where’s Gendry?” she asked, voice soft and hand binding tighter into his arm. 

“Gendry’s not…” Pod said, looking around and huffing, changing his channel over quickly. “Gendry! Get to your po-” 

Static came in when a ragged voice came back over, completely out of breath. “I’m running, Pod! I’m fucking running!” Gendry sounded like he was worried - beyond what worried could hold as a word. But Arya wasn’t sure if he was worried for her or his job. Was she even worth the word? 

“He’ll be here in a sec, don’t worry,” Pod said, before whispering under his breath, “idiot.” 

Arya waited at her door, the silence on the other side far more daunting than the hurried steps and yelling from just a few moments before. Before she knew it, a knock came to her door. Arya sucked in a breath, opening the door - met with a man she was not expecting. It was Pod again, smiling easily now. Arya sighed, smiling back briefly. 

“It was only a university student,” he started, letting his tie loosen around his neck as he continued on. “He was dared to scale the fence and didn’t know the way out. Everything is fine,” he let out a shaky breath and Arya laughed, almost shutting the door when Pod made a strangled noise. 

“There’s something else?” 

“We’re stay on lockdown just in case. Everyone will stay put until morning,” he said, nodding to make sure she knew. Arya gave a nod back. “Sorry for the inconvenience,” he apologised.

“Thanks Pod,” she said, watching as Pod walked off, heading towards Sansa’s room further down the hall. Arya kept her gaze on the hallway for a few more moments, wondering if she’d see her bodyguard come bounding around the corner, apologising to her for leaving her alone. 

In the end, she just shut her door. 

Where the hell was he? And how could he just... _ leave _  like that. 

As she sat at her desk, another ten minutes went by before she heard a faint knock on her door. It opened, for Gendry to step through, barely even looking concerned. “You alright?” he asked, nodding as he took her in. Within a second of his question, and not waiting for an answer, he started to leave. Arya kicked her chair out from underneath her, hitting at her desk as hard as she could with all her frustration going into the force of it. 

“How can I trust you to do your job when you can’t be alone with me for five minutes?” she yelled. Gendry stopped, turning back into the room and slamming the door behind him. 

“How can I trust myself to do my job if I’m alone with you for five minutes?” Out of everything, this was when he was being honest? How long had he been holding onto those words? Or was it all just an excuse? 

“Oh, so you love me but also can’t stand me. Is that how it is?” she said, getting into his space again. Gendry didn’t budge, tongue poked into his cheek. 

“This conversation is over.” Gendry turned to the door again, and Arya couldn’t watch those stupid shoulders again. 

“Why would you risk losing everything over this? If things get worse between us you could lose your job. What about your mum?” She was desperate. She didn’t mean to say it like it was a threat. Arya was just…

Everything was too much. 

Gendry whipped back around, hands bound like they had been when she brought up his father. 

“Thats a low blow, your highness.” He warned her a gravel to his voice. Arya stepped away, hand to her head before the words could come to her. She felt like yelling, and crying, and fighting him all at the same time. 

“Well, am I wrong? We're fighting all the time and you can’t stand my presence. I’m so tired of you walking away from this and from me. How the fuck can I trust you to protect me?” she asked. Gendry hands raised up high, gesturing between them as his voice raised higher than before. Arya didn’t think either of them realised that they were in the palace. Everything else was just a void. 

Whenever they were around each other, it was only ever them. 

“How am I supposed to protect you when I’m in love with you?! It’s protection 101! I’m about to lose it all anyway because I broke the first rule so it doesn’t matter, does it?” he snapped, going for the door handle again, and the distance made her scared. Arya dashed for him, following after as the words came out - so desperate and longing, she was surprised it was only coming out then. 

“It doesn’t matter?! Have you bothered to stop and consider I might love you back?” 

Gendry stopped, turning back to her in one sharp movement. Arya was right behind, almost caught off guard by his sudden turn. 

Her chest heaved, the air going in, ragged and painful. She was still trying to catch her breath, and it didn’t help when Gendry was looking at her like that. She wanted to ask it again - does it matter then? - but words were caught in her throat. All she wanted to do was kiss him, show that idiot what he meant to her - but for the first time, she knew, above everything that her royal blood kept them apart. His job was on the line. Her confession meant nothing. 

That didn’t stop him. In a split second, he bent down, crowding her space with his form and kissing her so quickly, the breath she was trying to catch was given over to him. His arm snaked around her back, pulling her flush against his chest. She stared, wildly unprepared for him - he stunned her, for the first time. Arya was used to being the one to shake him down, rattle him until he laughed. Now, he was using his height to leverage her off balance, for each kiss she chased, he leaned forward, knocking her back a few steps.

Arya reached up, tugging his jacket from his shoulders, and heard the door slam behind them. Peeking, she saw Gendry’s foot keeping it shut as he tried to find the lock. Arya huffed, shoving him to the door, allowing her to lock it in his stead. Gendry barely even acknowledged that she had done it - other than his hand moving from her waist to her ass, gripping into the soft skin with a roughness she didn’t even realised she liked. Arya bit and nibbled at his lower lip, making him moan into her mouth, and Seven Hells, the sound was intoxicating. 

They tumbled off the door, Gendry kicking his shoes and socks off as they roamed the room in a desperate kiss. They kept knocking into furniture until they finally found the safety between her chest of draws and the wall. A few things were knocked off, but it wasn’t a problem at that moment - it was just them, they were the only thing that mattered. Gendry put Arya against the wall, and she tried to fight it, his touch and kiss kept her subdued, completely under his spell. 

Gendry fumbled with his hands, roaming down her body until she felt his hands wrench at the button on her jeans. He was rough, tugging her completely off balance and throwing her into him with every pull. She didn’t care, snatching at his tie as hard as she could and unbuttoning his shirt. As he hurried her jeans and underwear around her thighs, she kicked them off as best as she could, only to stop when his hand went directly between her thighs. 

Arya whined, the sudden touch so jolting, she had to clutch at his shoulders to steady herself. Delving one finger inside her, Arya tried not to make too much noise - it had been a while since someone else had touched her like that, and when he slipped a second inside, she could tell he knew what he was doing. With his thumb circling her clit, she finally let out a whimper that was far more guttural than she meant it to. And with that, Gendry smirked, his other hand going around her waist and pushing her right up against him. With that, she could feel the hard length of him on her thigh, begging at his trousers for freedom. But it seemed like his only concern was torturing Arya in his own special way. 

Gendry suffocated her whimpers and moans,  keeping them as close as possible as he got her off. Arya’s hands curled over his back, clawing at his shirt and dragging it up his back as his pace was unrelenting. When Arya had first had sex, she was abroad studying in Bravos - and from her experience with the guy she hooked up with was nothing like this. He was fumbly, and wanted to touch her, but only really cared about getting himself off. Gendry was well and truly fucking her from start to finish, making sure she knew - he was the only man that was ever going to make her feel this way. 

As her nails bore down in his the skin of his back, her orgasm rounding so quickly, she wanted desperately for him to slow down - she knew he wouldn’t. Her brow furrowed, and she had to stop kissing him just to pant. As her cry almost rang out in her room, Gendry sharply kissed her again, his fingers moving fast to get her to the edge. Arya felt her knees tremble, Gendry keeping her upright with his free hand around the back of her waist. He brought his fingers that were just inside her to his mouth, sucking on them, his hips unconsciously rubbing against her thigh. Arya whined, moving his hand away, kissing him again as his hands went back to her body. 

“You got anything?” he murmured, in between kisses, trying to hold onto her waist whilst also struggling with his belt. 

“Hm?” she hummed, a little dazed, before she decided to help him with his clothes, finally getting his shirt over his head as he finally freed his belt from his pants. 

“Condoms?” he confirmed. Arya looked to her side, patting the chest of draws, fumbling for the draw she could reach. 

“Top draw, under my underwear,” she said, and Gendry was quick to reach over and find the stack under all her things. Arya undid the button of his pants and unzipped everything. Arya kicked off the remainder of her pants as Gendry let his pants and underwear slip down to his midthigh. 

Arya didn’t want to gawk, didn’t want to stare - but fuck, he was big, and he was going to fuck her? That seemed impossible, but there was also a spark of determination in her - that it was going to be good from start to finish. Exactly how he planned, she guessed. Gendry put the condom on, then as they came eye to eye again, he smirked, a devilish look hidden within the blue that stared back. He bent slightly, taking the back of her thighs and hoisting her up against the wall.

Gendry ran his length over her entrance, running it slowly and deliberately over her clit. Arya held onto Gendry’s shoulders as he guided his length inside her. They both moaned, clutching tighter to one another. Gendry collapsed against her, a fist hitting the wall a little too hard. But neither of them cared, Arya’s legs tight around his waist, and Gendry finding his rhythm within her in a matter of moments. He started slow, drawing himself out before pushing his hips up against hers with a force that made Arya gasp. 

Gendry had drawn himself out, barely leaving the tip inside before thrusting hard until there was nothing left of him to give. Arya moaned, her pleasure a small cry into the void of the night. With a soft chuckle, Gendry took up the bottom of her shirt, finally removing the fabric and his mouth descending to her breast, moving her bra out of the way so his teeth could nip lightly at her nipple. Arya whined loudly, clawing at the back of his neck. 

“Shh, stop making noise,” he warned, thrusting into her as her hips came down at the same time, “ah, fuck!” he groaned into the crook of her neck. Arya tried not to make a sound, mewling when he thrust in another time. 

“Don’t tell me what to d-” she started, only for Gendry to buck his hips harder against hers, making her cry a little, “shit,” she gasped, her voice squeaking as sucked on her breast again. He nipped at it, just to see what would get a rise out of her. Most of the time, he was able to do it.   

“Be quiet. I’m fucking royalty here, it’s technically treason,” he reminded her, and Arya dragged her nails down his back, making him hiss then moan. 

“Oh, fuck you,” she moaned, fingers combing through the back of his hair. 

“You are,” he scoffed, his pace no longer slow and torturing. He came unravelled with whatever was holding him back. He went over and over again, pulling her flush against him every time, panting into her chest, kissing at her skin as she became more desperate for a release. It was building at the very pit of her stomach, legs tightening and loosening around his waist as her body rocked against his. 

As her pace unlonger matched his, desperately racing after the lust that was with her, trying to release the coiled mess of her orgasm that was brewing - Gendry continued, grunting a little harder, pace becoming a little more wild along with her. 

Her voice was rising in pitch, panting becoming even more girlish than she realised it could. Arya clutched to him, head thrown back as she felt her release coming. Then, Gendry brought his hand to the back of her head, forcing her down to him and kissing him with a force that he wouldn’t relinquish. Gendry was good at that - kissing her to silence the loud noises she was  _ definitely _  going to make at her ecstasy. She didn’t know how experienced he was - but he was fucking good. 

Her orgasm was blissful, and Gendry let her lips go, panting into her chest, as he slowed down his pace, allowing her to ride out the remnants of her climax. 

Gods, she hated him. 

 

*~*~*

 

Arya stepped down from her position on the wall, tugging his neck down to kiss her again. But she wasn’t done, and Gendry could tell he had wildly over stepped. Because she pushed on Gendry’s chest, urging him back until his legs hit her bed. He sat down, and Arya took off her bra before she took off Gendry’s pants that had yet to fall from his thighs. 

Climbing on top of him, Arya hooked her legs either side of his hips as she bent over him, catching his lips with her own. Her hair fell around his face. He didn’t realise how much of a mess he put her in - but knowing how hard she dug her nails into his back, he wasn’t unscathed either. 

Arya relaxed back onto Gendry’s thighs, stroking his shaft, lying it against her belly before letting the lips between her thighs run delicately over it. The two of them panted, looking the slow way her body moved over his. He wasn’t going to say it, nor would he let himself, but he was ready to come at any moment. All of this had happened so quickly, his heart was in his throat the entire time. 

Leading up to this moment, Gendry was trying to distance himself - he knew it was foolish to fall for a princess. But it was different when the princess wanted him too. He took her with all the harshness he could, knowing he couldn’t handle the tenderness after the anger that was charged between them. Arya didn’t relent or ask to stop, in fact, she seemed to be revelling it as much as he was. 

Then, Arya guided him into her, the warmth of her making Gendry roll his head back into the mattress. “Fuck,” he murmured, looking back to watch Arya bit her lip, her hands running up and down his bare chest. Then ,  she started to move, her rhythm was steady, grinding on top of him as she got used to his length. It was clear from the heaving of her chest that she was still trying to get familiar with it within her. 

It was as though she became more confident in just a matter of seconds, because she sped herself up, twisting her hips to circle up and down his cock. Now he realised what she was doing. She was going to torture him - for everything that had happened, for all the fights, for the words they spat at each other. He was making him pay. And what a perfect way to suffer. Gendry looked up to the ceiling, praying any god to listen to, and let him last longer, because he wasn’t done cherishing this moment. 

Arya lent down, kissing him again and her pace started to become hurried, pushing up against him, and allowing him the chance to finally thrust in deeper than before. He cupped her breast, biting at the slope, making her mewl and throw her head back slightly. She smirked into her next kiss, but Gendry knew why she was being cocky; he could feel her walls tightening down on him. Her orgasm was so close, a desperate tugging of her body against his cock was intoxicating. 

That’s when she became needy and hungry, thrusting hard against him, desperate for a climax that is just around the corner. Arya clutched to him, and he grabbed ahold of her hips, hands binding into anything he can purchase. He rocked her hips down harder onto his cock, making sure he filled her as completely as he could, and before he could catch it - Arya moaned, breathing out harshly, and making tight little squeaks as she held onto his body. 

Gendry shot up from his back, holding her in his arms, and making her cry a little more, panting a little more heavily - trying her best to catch her breath. Her body arched into his, riding out her climax, her beautiful body sculpting itself to his every time they met in each thrust. Yet, Gendry got lost in her eyes, the grey and captivating - utterly tender as she came apart. He watched face, a fierce woman turned into a tender mess in his arms - all her features soft and begging for him. Only him. She dove back into him, kissing her with a moan on her breath, and her body straight up to his as she hugged around his shoulders. Her kiss was passionate and all consuming, and Gendry loved it, his hand on the back of her head to keep her there. And He couldn’t help himself, he gripped into her ass, bucking up into her as she whimpered again, tight little cries as she was climaxing. 

Arya’s skin was more tender than he realised, her climax coming far quicker that time than it had before. And he felt confident in his own way. Gendry couldn’t help himself, tossing her onto her back, and hovering over her as he gripped his shaft back at her entrance. Taking her leg up, he allowed himself better access, driving himself forward in one hard thrust. Arya arched off the mattress, her chest against his for a hard intake of breath before she fell back down on the bed, clutching into the sheets. 

With her leg hooked at his elbow, Gendry bent over her - forehead pressed against hers. They watched as their bodies moved against one another, thrusting until they could no longer keep the pace, tiring themselves out quickly. It repeated, slow and fast then back again, drawing it all out and Gendry was in love with it all. He was in love with her so much more than he ever had been before. Arya’s hands went over his back and neck again, keeping herself to him as she moaned, kissing at his shoulder as her body was responding well against his. 

In the end, Gendry knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, she was gorgeous beneath him, but he had been wearing down, holding onto a threat of his willpower and was finally near the end of his rope. Gendry let go of her leg, letting it  fall to his hip, and holding himself up just to try and make himself last a little more. He wanted to tell her, to let her know that he wouldn’t be any use in a few moments, but Arya’s legs locked around his thighs, pace speeding up without prompting, and he could feel her walls clenching down again. With her breathing becoming heavy and ragged, he knew she wasn’t going to last much longer. 

Her hands went to either side of his face, dragging him down and kissing him. He indulged, letting himself taste her, tongues moving against each other - everything felt perfect. Arya cried out again, and Gendry let out a guttural moan as he finally let himself go. He stilled, his body shaking as he fell into her. Completely weak. Arya’s arms traced into his back, as he got back onto his hands, looking down at her. 

In her bliss, she was glowing - like a kind of beauty that no dress could ever add. It was just Arya. Perfectly Arya in utter pleasure. And it was all because of him. And he just couldn’t seem to catch his breath as he looked down at her panting body. 

Words were lost between them, and all she did was kiss him - sweet and making him a mess. He buckled down to his elbows, kissing her over and over again, knowing he could keep doing that all night long if he wanted. 

And Gods, did he want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.....did you enjoy it 👀👀👀👀


	8. Giving Up This Whole Lie (This Whole Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! I have put off writing this chapter for ages but we power through my dudes! anyway, big shout out for the beta read from Micah - it's not perfect cause look....we've both missed things who cares. i'm posting a new chapter. be happy. also....another chapter coming this week....stay tuned

Gendry had every intention of leaving in the middle of the night, to creep from her bed and steal away in the early hours that his exit would never be seen. When he woke in the morning, cradling the princess, he still couldn’t help but linger for a moment, in spite of the dangers of being caught. She was heaven in his palm, perfectly sculpted to fit against his body. With her hair fanned out, covering her face in just the right way to make Gendry wish he could hold her forever. 

But daylight broke fast the curtains.

And it forced him to leave. 

His clothes were scattered across the room, a trail leading back to the door, dressing as a way of remembering the night before. The act of dressing became a longer process, as he was suddenly unable to pick up his undershirt and bulletproof vest with out remembering how it ended up on the floor to begin with. Stepping into his pants, and trying to button up his shirt as discretely as possible, he tried not to wake her. When everything seemed in order, he traced back Arya’s clothes and put them on her dresser. 

With one last glance at her sleeping form, he left, shutting the door without making a sound. He fixed up his suit to the best of his ability before wandering down to the kitchen. He combed his fingers through his hair, feeling the tender skin at the back of his neck as he went towards the coffee pots. They were brewing, and Gendry yawned as he waited.

“You’re here early,” a voice said, making Gendry jump. He turned, seeing Hot-pie in his usual attire of kitchen uniform and flour. He rubbed at his cheek as he pushed the heel of his palms into dough. 

“Am I?” Gendry asked, swallowing the nerves that trickled at the edge of his neck. Maybe it was just the fading sensation of Arya that had him so shaken. Hot-pie scoffed as he looked towards the clock.  

“Dude, it’s like, 5am, you’re an hour early to work,” he said, and as Gendry’s eyes drifted up, he saw the hands pointing to the time, and he cursed himself. 

“I think my clock ran fast, I thought I was late,” he lied, staring back at the pot of coffee, and hoping to whatever gods could hear him, that he’d make it through the day without completely fucking up his entire life. 

And to be fair to himself, he was very good at that. 

If that night before had anything to say about it. 

With the two cups of coffee in hand, Gendry slowly made his way up. The light of morning was filling the palace like it were a pool - delving into every area it could as to ignite the golds in all the finishings. When it caught the sun, it would blind him, making him squint and turn just to continue on. By the time he made it to Arya’s room, he felt more awake, and frankly, more aware than he had the entire morning. 

A princesses’ room lay beyond - a room in which he took more pleasure in than any security personnel ever should have. And yet, he had, and she was perfect. Taking a deep breath, Gendry nudged the handle down with his elbow and went beyond the threshold, moving inside just as silently as he had left it. 

The door shut behind him, and he saw Arya rise from her sleep, rubbing at the corner of her eye as she held the duvet to her chest. When she spotted him, she smiled, something innocent that made him nervous. 

And Gendry couldn’t smile back. 

 

*~*~*

 

He was stiff - rigid like he had been the days before, and Arya could feel her heart racing. Arya pulled the blankets up around her chest again - maybe it was the cold light of day that made him nervous, seeing her so bare. Maybe he wasn’t completely with it the night before and didn’t find her appealing when light poured into the room. Trying to find any sort of clothes, Arya needed to get out of bed and talk to him. 

“Gendry, is something -” 

“Arya!” Her mother yelled just outside the door. Arya pulled herself back into her sheets, covering herself up as much as possible before her mother burst through the door. As she took in the sight, she glanced at Gendry before turning back to Arya with a stern gaze. “Arya, cover up,” she warned. 

“Sorry, your highness, was just delivering the coffee,” Gendry said, looking down at his feet and putting one of the coffee cups on her dresser table. His hand barely touched the surface - as though the entire thing disgusted him now. 

“Please excuse her, Gendry. I doubt she’s like this usually,” her mother apologised as Gendry smiled politely to her. He didn’t even bother looking up.

“I haven’t seen it before, no. Excuse me, I’ll leave you two to discuss what you need to,” he said, clearing his throat and edging past the Queen. Arya reached down next to her bed, trying to scramble for her robe at least. 

“Mum, can you give me five minutes, I need to -” she tried, before her mum came bounding towards her bed and sitting on the edge closest to Arya. 

“The ministers want to hear your proposal!” she beamed, catching Arya completely off guard. 

“What?” 

“They contacted me this morning, and as everything seems settled, I think it’s the perfect time to go!” 

Arya felt stared at the door, her heart yearning to find the man beyond it. She gripped hard into her robe and looked back at her mother. “But, I don’t think -” 

“From what Davos has told me, you’re beyond ready! Get dressed, we should get going as soon as we can,” she said, going into Arya’s wardrobe and tossing out clothes for her to wear. But Arya ignored it, opting to put her robe on and rush towards the door to her room. She perked her head out, fastening the belt. 

“Gendry?” she said, only to find he wasn’t there. No where in the hallway was Gendry, not either side of her door, or even further down looking for threats. Arya’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, something feeling off and she wasn’t sure what the hell she was supposed to do about this. After the night, she thought they were finally on the same page. 

“Arya! Come on!” Her mother yelled, and Arya was drawn back into her room. 

When her mother picked out the outfit, Arya was sceptical at first - it was something that Sansa had made her buy, bright green velvet suit was something adventurous and very much out of Arya colour comfort zone of black and grey. The suit was tailored to Arya’s form, pants tight and cutting off at the ankle so she could wear a nice heel with it, and the blazer jacket was made to fit her nicely. With she found a nice black singlet shirt with lace fringes across her chest, Arya put on a pair of heels and followed her mother. 

As they left Arya’s room, Brienne stood waiting. Without thinking, Arya turned to the towering woman and asked the question. 

“Brienne, where did Gendry go?” Brienne looked confused before straightening her shoulders and explaining the situation. 

“Oh, once the queen decided to join you for your meeting, we reassigned him to driving priority, as everything else is taken care of,” she said, gesturing for Arya to continue. Arya chewed on her lip and walked beside Brienne. 

“Okay, was just wondering where he’d run off to,” Arya faked a laugh, adjusting herself before they made it to the cars, trying to look her best and not like she was completely nervous to see him. 

“He’s doing his job, don’t worry princess,” Brienne said, but that wasn’t what Arya was worried about. 

He held open the door to the car, helping the Queen in before he offered his hand to Arya. She gripped it lightly, stepping inside as his fingers lingered on her palm. Before she could even glance down, or back at Gendry, he had pulled away and closed the door for them, taking his place as the driver and getting them to the meeting as quickly as possible. 

Arya was rarely nervous - she never let herself feel so out of control that she couldn’t recover. She was made for the recklessness of what she wanted; but a meeting with old, stuffy people scared her to the core, especially as it dealt with something she was passionate about. The charity proposal - known to her team as The Winter Foundation - was aiming at families in times of crisis; be it family tragedy, grieving or those that needed to stay close to the hospital. It was what Arya related to - and she wanted to help those families that didn’t have the privileges or money to just take the time they needed to mourn or recover from a trauma so heart wrenching. 

And somehow, everyone loved it. Even Tyrion did. He may have only been around the palace in bursts to reaffirm Robb when needed, but seeing him in a more formal setting had once put her on edge. When he smiled and gave her a small thumbs up as the others were all clapping after her proposal was the moment she knew she could breathe again. 

After that, it was like everything exploded. After one politician nodded and added his own notes, another chimed in with hers, trying to make an effective plan of action. Tyrion had his own advice, with children and families having places to stay in case of hardships. Within a matter of minutes, her proposal was approved and The Winter Foundation was set into motion without any dilemmas. It felt effortless, and still made her nervous. Could she still pull off the launch, or was this as good as it was going to get? 

All Arya wanted to do was talk to two certain people. One she could corner at any given moment, the other was bound to a bed at the current moment. As Arya walked back to the car with her mother, she saw Gendry waiting and perked, seizing her chance before she could be interrupted. 

“Gendry, can you drive me to the hospital tomorrow?” she asked, meeting the gaze of the bodyguard. Just as she thought he was going to speak, her mother touched at her back, voice excited. 

“So you’re finally going to see your father?” 

Arya weakly smiled before she turned to her mother. “I think so.” 

“I’ll make sure the hospital knows you’re coming tomorrow,” she said, getting her phone out and starting to organise Arya’s day as she got into the back of the car. 

“Thanks,” she said, turning back to Gendry who still waited for Arya to get into the backseat.  “Gendry, I need to -” 

Brienne appeared beside Gendry, towering over him and making him step back to give her respect - that’s what Arya thought anyway. “Gendry, make sure the princess gets into the car safely, and stay behind. I will be with the queen and the princess,” she instructed, and he gave one firm nod before turning to Arya. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he complied, giving a nod to Arya and shutting the door as she sat down next her mother. 

Why did he constantly leave her behind? Leave her in the dark? 

Arya was getting tired of waiting for answers to questions she wasn’t sure she was asking or not. It was all complicated and too much. 

Above everything, Arya wanted to talk to Gendry - she wanted to make sure that the night they spent together wasn’t wasted, that he was in it as much as she was. They had said I love you, they had broken down all the walls between them, but why did it feel like twenty more walls were separating them now? They weren’t even allowed love in her rigid lifestyle and she was considering imploding one day just to get out of it. It seemed like the most convenient option of everything she could do.  

Even when they arrived back at the palace, Arya thought she could spare a minute alone with Gendry, but he was taken off duty as he started early, and Pod was put on her detail. She didn’t know why they cared about overtime, but it was officially becoming the biggest cockblock to be royalty. 

By morning, Arya had rushed getting changed, knowing Gendry was waiting downstairs - with no coffee delivery, she knew he was getting other things sorted for their day. As long as she got to see him, make him talk, she’d be at ease - nothing would be weighing on her mind anymore. Arya pulled her hair up into a band, rushing down the stairs and seeing a casually dressed gendry. They were going to town.  _ Yes _ ! Perfect. He turned to her, giving her a faint smile, as he gestured towards the cars. 

As they came face to face, Arya sighed, biting at her lip as she tried to think of what to say first. “Gendry, I think we should -” 

“Arya, I’m taking you to the hospital,” said a nearby voice. Arya jumped as she looked at Jon who was reaching out to Gendry. In a beat, Gendry reached into his pocket and gave Jon the keys to the car. 

“What? Why?” Arya sputtered out. Jon looked at her with a crease in his brow. 

“I have to talk with dad? You don’t mind taking over Robb’s detail for a little bit, do you, mate?” he asked Gendry, who merely shrugged and smiled to his friend. 

“Not at all, I’ll see you when you get back,” he said, giving a nod to Arya before reluctantly moving from his post. Jon got in the drivers seat and Arya waited a beat before moving around to the passenger side. 

The entire ride over, Arya hunched down in her seat, arms crossed and scowl written into her face. She couldn’t help it - she was annoyed. Her idiot brother was a dick that didn’t even realise how his ‘helpful’ little suggestion and need to see their dad was ruining her entire plan to talk to the guy she liked. It was easier to talk to Gendry before they slept together, and now they had finally sealed the deal - the world went ‘fuck you’ to Arya’s plans. 

“You don’t have to be worried about Dad,” Jon said, as they were getting closer. 

“I’m not mad about dad,” Arya grumbled, shifting in her seat. 

“Then what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Arya lied, turning out the window and away from her brother. 

“You should tell your face that,” he scoffed out a laugh, but they remained silent throughout the rest of the journey. 

They arrived and walked inside, passing by strangers and waving to them when they were recognised - it was still a strange thing to do, even after twenty or so years of having to do it. Jon seemed just as uncomfortable as Arya was - they weren’t great with being in the spotlight like the other members of their family. Sure, Arya and Jon were good in crowds, and got on with a lot of people, but it was different when they were suddenly recognised as royalty over being interesting people. 

At the brink of their father’s door, Arya and Jon stopped. He put a hand on her back, rubbing it back and forth, looking down at her with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be out here until you’re done,” he said. Arya smiled back, binding her hands into fists before letting them go, trying to get the tension loose from her body.

“Thanks,” she replied, slowly walking into the room. 

Past the threshold, her dad perked, shifting himself higher in his bed and staring at her in disbelief. Arya swallowed, hands going into her pockets so she couldn’t nervously pick at the loose treads on her jeans or play with her fingers without meaning to. 

“Hi,” Arya said weakly. 

“Arya! Oh my girl, come here,” he beamed, and Arya went to his side, hugging him in a weak embrace - her father held her close as tightly as he could hold her. He squeezed her with all the effort his arms could - regardless of his state in a hospital bed. As the embrace loosened, Arya sat on the side of her father’s bed, his hand covering her own. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember you that day, I know it must have hurt you,” he apologised, and Arya had a lump in her throat, something she didn’t feel like she could clear. 

“Well...” she said under her breath looking down her hands. She should have put them back in her pockets once the hug ended, but she didn’t - now she was left with her fingers tracing lines over her hands, trying to find comfort in it rather than looking at her dad. 

“I don’t expect you to be happy with me, I doubt that will happen any time soon, but I do hope we will find our way back to what it used to be,” he said, and Arya took in a deep breath, looking back at him as she finally found the strength to swallow that lump in her throat. 

“It did hurt, dad. I thought you would remember me and I was just forgotten. I mean, you even remember Rickon, and he’s young as fuck,” she said, catching the word as it slipped from her mouth, “sorry,” she apologised, but her dad laughed, his hand on her wrist and thumb stroking against it. 

“I won’t make excuses like I was in a car accident and suffered a major head injury, which did in fact happen,” he said, and Arya laughed, stopping herself as she finally looked back at him. He gave her a faint smile before it faded. “My memory may be in bits and pieces right now, but never doubt you are in there, my little wolf. You may not be as close to the surface as five year old rickon, or fifteen year old Sansa, but you are there, and always in my heart.” 

Arya felt her lip tremble, heart feeling less heavy but much weaker than it had been. She was never used to her dad outright saying things like that - all his love was hidden under his understanding of her, his pressure never mounting like it had the others. Now, words could go along with the actions. “Love you dad,” she said, letting out a small sob. He brought her close to his chest, kissing at her crown as he held onto her for a few moments. 

He let her go as Arya discreetly wiped at her eyes. “I’ll be home in a few days, we can talk more then?” he asked, and Arya nodded. 

“I’d love that,” she said, looking back at the door. “I think Jon wants to talk to you, is that okay?” 

“Yes, I’ll see you soon,” he said, allowing Arya to leave and give Jon his own time. 

In the time where Arya waited, she tried texting anyone - but the hospital reception was the worst; just when she thought she could send Gendry a quick message asking when he was finishing that day when it would give up and fail to send. She thought maybe she could send out a quick ‘hi’ but even that failed. 

By the time Jon was done, it was late afternoon and her entire day was wasted in the hospital without a way to get home. She could have very well stolen the car, but thought Jon may have killed her if she even attempted it, especially without any security around her. It wasn’t until they were leaving did she realise why it took so long, Jon was organising the arrival of their dad all on his own and he was running over it all, every little step at a time. Jon was making sure it was perfect - but god, was Arya bored the entire time waiting. 

The next few days flew by without Arya even realising it - every chance she got to talk to Gendry was immediately taken away when her mother gave her a call about an event meeting, or trying to figure out when her next project of the young girls gym program was. Everything was building so suddenly, and Arya was beginning to dread her new found responsibility. 

At a ladies luncheon that all the Stark women attended at the end of the week, Arya and Sansa was able to see each other for the first time in days. Gendry walked behind them, and Arya fiddled with the dress the entire time they walked, but Sansa just giggled at her side. 

“Hey.” Sansa greeted, poking an elbow into Arya’s rib. 

“Hey,” she replied. 

“I want to hang out, you think we can watch some movies tonight?” she asked, taking a glance behind her before turning back to Arya. Arya scrunched up her nose, not knowing what took Sansa’s attention but replied anyway.

“Sure,” she said, and Sansa smiled, knocking her hip against Arya’s. It knocked Arya clean off balance and sent her onto the floor - the heels that she wore didn’t keep her stable enough and Arya suspected that Sansa knew this. 

Gendry immediately went to her side, hands extended to her. “Are you okay, your highness?” he asked quietly. His face was close to hers, and she felt herself freeze - what if her hands shake and he could feel it, know that’s she scared? Why did it feel like it was only the two of them in the room and why was he her only focus? She felt like she was breaking apart. 

Part of her hated her sister for embarrassing her in front of a room of people and Gendry, but another was thankful that she could savour the touch of his skin without shame. Arya grabbed tight to his hold and started to stand, looking over to Sansa, who was taking pictures of everything going down. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Arya sighed, smiling to Gendry when their hands left each other. She watched as his hand went to his side, flexing out before it moved into a fist and out once more - as though he wasn’t sure what do with himself. 

The luncheon went fine and Arya actually enjoyed herself - having polite conversation and then inappropriate conversations with Sansa under hushed breaths. The girls giggled and kept their voices low as they joked about conversations they couldn’t hear and simply made up from reading lips very poorly. 

In the end, the two girls went back to the palace, changed into their comfiest clothes and Arya brought food up from the kitchen, meeting Gendry along the way without a minute to speak to one another. When they reached Sansa’s door was when Gendry chose to speak. 

“I’ll be back around ten to take you back to your room,” he said, knocking on the door so Arya didn’t have to.

“Thanks,” she replied, trying to find some words to say before Sansa got there, but her sister was quick. And unconsciously determined to ruin Arya’s life slowly. 

“Arya!” Sansa beamed, “thanks for dropping her off, Gendry,” Sansa smiled, grabbing some food from Arya’s arms and putting packages in between her teeth to handle more things. 

“No problem, your highness,” Gendry said, waving the pair off. 

Arya dumped most of the food on the bed, sitting next to her sister as they flicked through movies and shows they’d watched a million times before. But it was their night and they could make fun of the things they enjoyed.

As the next movie started, the two sisters sat in silence, a very unusual silence for them, but Arya suspected it was because they were both staring at the actor. The way he moved and spoke and everything about him was fucking uncanny. By midway through the film, Arya couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Okay you have to admit that the prince in this looks like...exactly like Robb,” she said, and Sansa paused Cinderella, turning to Arya with wide eyes and her voice raised. 

“Oh my god! I was thinking the exact same thing I just didn’t think anyone else saw it!” Sansa yelled, smacking Arya’s arm over and over again. 

“How can you not see it! They’re fucking identical,” Arya screamed back, both of them grabbing their phones and showing off comparison pics, eventually editing something together and sending it off. 

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

**9:03pm - Arya:** Robb has a twin 

**9:03pm - Robb** : not this again 

**9:04pm - Rickon** : do we have another brother?

**9:04pm - Jon** : it’s a secret I’ve had to keep for years 

**9:05pm - Sansa** : I say we contact this dude and make the two of them do a photoshoot

**9:05pm - Robb** : please leave me alone 

**9:07pm - Bran** : are we just ignoring the fact that Robb might not be in line for the throne anymore 

**9:07pm - Robb** : 😅

**9:08pm - Sansa** : this is why he doesn’t want us talking about it 

**9:09pm - Rickon** : #RobbIsntMYking

**9:12pm - Arya** : wait, isn’t he also the actor from the tv show bodyguard

**9:12pm - Jon** : THATS IT I WAS TRYINH TO WORK OUT WHERE HE WAS FROM

**9:13pm - Bran** : you probably recognised him as your cousin

**9:13pm - Bran** : you may know him from selected works such as bodyguard, family dinner and running the country

**9:14pm - Arya** : watch out jon hes coming for your position of extra sibling

**9:14pm - Jon** : that’s just cold 

The two girls laughed hysterically on Sansa’s bed, trying to collectively catch their breaths after Jon’s reply, Sansa eventually kicked at Arya’s side. Arya huffed out a noise that could have been pain, but she was still laughing to make it sound any different. 

“So,” Sansa said, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“So,” Arya huffed out, holding at her side. 

“You’re not going to admit it, huh?” Sansa asked. Arya furrowed her brow. 

“Admit what?” 

“That the claw marks on the back of Gendry’s neck are yours,” Sansa smirked, and Arya immediately went into fight or flight mode - which mostly consisted of being fight. Arya kicked at her sister’s stomach, causing Sansa to grunt and scramble away laughing a little. 

“Shh! God, why the hell would you say that?” Arya snapped. Sansa raised a brow before moving into Arya slightly, wanting to gauge Arya’s reaction to the next accusation. 

“So those sounds of books falling and repeated bangs against the wall weren’t you and Gendry going to town on each other?” she said with a smirk. Arya swallowed, turning back towards the screen. 

“Stop saying that,” she said. 

“Well -” 

“Shut up!” she hissed as she threw a pillow at Sansa. 

“Arya,” 

“It’s just complicated,” Arya confessed, falling back into the bed with a huff. Sansa crawled to Arya’s side, looking at her from the corner of her eye. 

“How?” 

“It’s like he doesn’t want to try, like after we had sex he just wasn’t interested anymore,” Arya explained and Sansa scoffed.

“I doubt that’s it at all.” 

“Why? It’s not like I know if the sex was good or not. We didn’t exactly talk,” Arya said, turning to Sansa who was flicking through her phone quickly.

“Well you should, because from what I’ve noticed, he barely takes his eyes off you.” 

“He has to watch me, dumbass,” Arya reminded. Then, Sansa shoved her phone in Arya’s face. 

“He literally does  _ not _ need to stare at your ass or your non-existent boobs,” she said, showing the pictures she took of Arya and Gendry at the luncheon, where Gendry most definitely had his attention on certain parts of Arya. 

“Shut up,” Arya shoved the phone aside. 

“He bit them, didn’t he? Come on, show the teeth marks,” Sansa sprung up, wide eyed and accusing Arya of something that was definitely true - but she really didn’t want her sister knowing. 

“Dude, what the fuck! No!” Arya said, covering her chest with her hands. 

“So you admit he bit your tits,” Sansa said, cocking her brow again and suddenly pounced, holding Arya down as she started to tickle at her armpits and her sides. Arya tried to be as small as possible, but she had to admit, Sansa was good at being a tickle-monster - she had perfected it as kids. 

“Stop!” Arya giggled as Sansa went over the top of her, tickling at her sides and going into a deep voice and saying weird sexual things. It made Arya laugh and roll her eyes as Sansa tried to be funny. 

By the time ten o’clock came around, there was a soft knock at the door and Arya left with Sansa’s lingering gaze on them. “Go back to your room, fuckface!” Arya snapped, and over her shoulder she heard Sansa’s hiss of displeasure and the closing of the door. 

And in the silence, Arya knew all she wanted to do was ask Gendry what was going on between them - but she was scared of the answer. Regardless of the words between them, or what had happened those nights before - it still scared her that he’d no longer want her. Rejection. She dread the thing entirely. 

“Make sure you get sleep tonight, it’s late and you have a meeting tomorrow morning with event organisers,” Gendry said as they were getting closer to Arya’s room. 

“Right,” she said back, voice weak compared to how it usually is. Then, they were at her door, and Arya was going inside. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and Arya was speaking before she even realised it. 

“Stop leaving!” she let out, a frustration that had built - one of anxiety and fear. 

Gendry stopped and immediately went back to her, pushing her into her room slightly with the door still ajar, his exit always right behind him. “What? Keep your voice down,” he said, trying to calm her down, but she was so fucking scared of what he’d say that all her words came pouring out. 

“I hate this, Gendry,” she confessed, “we slept together and now you can’t stand the sight of me, and every time we’re near each other we barely get room to talk or breathe,” she panted, hand running through her hair as she tried to make it out of this conversation without completely dying. 

Gendry huffed, hands on his hips as he shrugged at her accusation. “I’m not doing it on purpose! It’s just been happening, this isn’t -” 

“Stop lying, gods, I’m sick of it! I just want the truth,” she spat at him and Gendry shrugged again, looking at her in disbelief. She knew she was being ridiculous, but he was making her feel like she wasn’t worth the love he seemingly once had.

“What truth? What do I have to say to get you to stop this?” 

“Just tell me what you feel! I hate silence, you know that. I’m not a fucking mind reader, I need you to tell me what’s going on!” 

“Gendry, there’s a security debriefing before the king comes back, we need you down in the security office,” Brienne’s voice beamed over his comms. Gendry huffed, looking back at Arya.

“I have to go,” he sighed, turning to the door and grabbing onto it to close it behind him. 

“Do you regret it?” Arya asked, it was quick and painful to even say. Mainly because she didn’t  _ really _ want to know the answer. Gendry let go of the door, turning back towards her. 

“What?” he replied. 

“Do you regret that night? Do you regret saying I love you to me?” she asked, and he remained silent. Arya swallowed, looking down at her feet as she caught her breath. She wasn’t one to cry easily - but it felt like she was having her heartbroken. She faced him again, trying to swallow down her insecurities just to get her answers. “Am I really that bad? Is it hard for you to tell me what’s -” 

“Gendry! Meeting, now!” Brienne snapped. Gendry went tight lipped, hands clenched as he gestured towards the door again.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said once more, turning to the door again. 

“Fuck,” she said under her breath, going to move into her room again, only to feel herself being pushed inside and behind the open door. In a second, in only the light of the moon filling her room - Gendry pushed her to the wall and kissed her with every ounce of pent of wanting that she’d been feeling, but it was his own. Arya rose on her toes taking Gendry’s cheeks into her hands as Gendry pulled her close to him again. Then, he let her down sweetly, allowing Arya to gently let her feet rest back down on the ground, before he rose up again. He didn’t let them part very far, their foreheads leaning against each other.

“I could never regret you,” he said, and Arya let out a shaky breath, unable to find any words. Her mouth remained open, shocked that he could say something like that and  _ mean _ it.  “We’ll talk later, okay? I just have to go,” he said. Arya shut her eyes softly, savouring her moment for longer than either of them should, but she didn’t care. She snuck one more kiss before nodding and looking back at Gendry

“Okay,” she said quietly.  

Gendry stole one last kiss before leaving her in her room. Arya bit into her lip before breaking into a smile that she couldn’t shake. 

And gods, she never wanted to. 


	9. And here, we have the slut, in its natural habitat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what? two chapters in one week! well one is a joke chapter, we get productive. i'm only here for the laughs. xx and i did promise slam poetry, so.........

**10:31pm - Arya:** So, what youre saying is that you were awkward cause you could see through my blanket? 

**10:32pm - Gendry** : dude, your nipples were showing through it, it was a turn on and then because incredibly awkward when your fucking mum walked in.

**10:32pm - Arya:** and everything else?

**10:32pm - Gendry** : fucked up universe keeping us apart, sorry

**10:33pm - Arya:** awwww you’re so cute when you’re desperate 

**10:33pm - Gendry** : i don’t think you’re allowed to complain when you fucking yell at me in a hallway begging me for an answer for something i wasn’t intentionally doing 

**10:33pm - Arya:** i stand by my reaction 

**10:33pm - Gendry** : ok then 

**10:33pm - Arya:** alright 

**10:35pm - Arya:** soooooooooooooo

**10:35pm - Arya:** you still in the palace? 

**10:37pm - Gendry** : You’re seriously horny right now? 

**10:37pm - Arya:** aren’t you 

**10:38pm - Gendry** : literally always, but i’m still in my meeting 

**10:38pm - Arya:** i’ll send you nudes to keep your spirits up 

**10:42pm - Gendry** : pls for the love of the gods, don’t, cause my spirits won’t be the only thing that’s up 

Arya chew on her lip as she read over his name. His apology. His casual confession of love. And she beamed. 

**10:43pm - Gendry:** can i see you later? 

**10:43pm - Arya:** yes

 

*

 

Bran wheeled up to the stage, a few stares and whispers as one of the wheels caught on the last step. In the end, the manager of the club and a few bystanders had to help him. It wasn’t embarrassing, just a little awkward to have three grown men fondling his chair and not him. 

He had invited Arya, who happened to bring along Gendry - funny how her security followed her absolutely everywhere, but Bran wasn’t. He thought it may have been some ableist crap, but when he saw Arya’s hand on his wrist as Bran edged towards the mic it was clear what the real reason was. Also the hickey on his neck was a dead give away. 

Bran cleared his throat and Arya and Gendry stopped speaking. The open mic night was his idea. Bran had worked up this plan for a while, knowing full well he could get away with it - but now he was here, and only confidence and determination ran through him. Chaos wheeling - if you will. He took a breath, then spoke into the mic. 

“I’m a theology major, I can take confession, even with this wheelchair condition. My legs stopped working when the car flipped, now it seems like I’m the one that’s dicked. I make light of the frame that holds me, even when it’s the thing that has made me lonely. I smile and wave, even when no one thinks I’m gay. The wheels tend to avert the eyes, even when I wanna talk to guys. I hear sympathy from women across the world, but I can still make your world whirl. I don’t wanna talk about how the chair feels or what kind of drink I want with my meal - I’m a grown ass man, a man that just can’t stand. I’m filled with love and wanting, and I’m a fun guy that deserves some flaunting. I’m a theology major, I can take confession. And yes, to answer your question, my dick does work, and I have a suggestion. Either mind your business, apologise for the transgression. Or date me, I can still fuck, no repression, in succession, with or without discretion.”

When everyone was roaring with laughter, and Bran was helped from the stage, he wheeled over to Arya and Gendry’s table. They were trying hard to catch their breaths, hands on the ribs as they tried to form sentences. 

“Your highness,” Gendry started before promptly bursting into laughter, patting Bran on the shoulder as he wheezed out another laugh.

“What the fuck was that?” 

“I wanted everyone to know that I still fuck.” 

The pair looked at each other before banging their hands on the table, the entire venue a stream of laughter. It made Bran happy. 

The next day, Robb texted the group an article. 

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**9:40am - Robb** : “Prince Bran does the worst, most inappropriate poem at an open mic night”

**9:40am - Robb** : What the fuck did you do?

**9:41am - Arya** : 

**9:41am - Rickon** : YOU FUCKING DIDN’T!!!!

**9:41am - Sansa** : i thought you were joking! 

**9:42am - Bran** : I’m single, and the people deserve to know that my dick still works 

**9:42am - Jon** : He’s right

**9:43am - Davos** : PRINCE BRAN - YOU DID NOT SAY THIS IN FRONT OF PEOPLE 

**9:43am - Arya** : he said, and a quote ‘to answer your question, my dick does work’

**9:44am - Davos** : I might actually have a heart attack 

**9:44am - Rickon** : HE NEEDS SOME MILK

**9:45am - Davos** : i think this is it for today. I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed. 

**9:46am - Rickon** : press f in the chat for a fallen brother 

**9:46am - Robb** : oh...that’s cold davos 

**9:47am - Sansa** : this year we lost our dear brother bran

**9:47am - Bran** : quit telling everyone i’m dead 

**9:48am - Sansa** : sometimes i can still hear his voice 

 

*

 

**The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: The family portrait for the Stark siblings is FINALLY out!

@TheRoyalMemeFamily: they are dressed in traditional Winterfell garments - only the royals now wear them. And they stink. 

RobbWinterfell: @TheRoyalMemeFamily how can this be a family portrait if i’m not there 

TheRoyalMemeFamily: @RobbWinterfell ohhhhh…..you must be that imposter king. We know you’re related to the actor Richard Madden

 

**Sansa Stark of Winterfell** @PrincessSansa: also, the only reason Arya likes wearing this outfit is cause hers comes with a sword

@TheRoyalMemeFamily: @PrincessSansa can confirm this outfit was made for a child

@AryaStark: @TheRoyalMemeFamily @PrincessSansa still as sharp as a real sword 

 

*

 

@wetbreadvevo: so...the fucking starks have been posting pics from their family photoshoot this entire time and no one has questioned it? What the fuck 

 

*

 

**3:14pm - Jon:** hey, mate, you know Richard Madden in gonna be at this event night, right 

**3:15pm - Robb** : fuck….are you serious? 

**3:16pm - Jon** : yep, saw the guest list last night 

**3:17pm - Robb** : *typing*

**3:17pm - Jon** : yes it’s too late to cancel 

**3:17pm - Robb** : fuck 

**3:18pm - Robb** : can we just avoid him the entire night? 

**3:18pm - Jon** : I mean sure but it’ll be a bit rude 

**3:19pm - Robb** : okay new plan, I’ll greet him at the event, but if you see anyone taking pictures, tackle them to the ground 

**3:19pm - Robb** : I don’t need the girls finding photographic evidence that I’ve met him

**3:20pm - Jon** : you know that I know you’ve met him before right 

**3:20pm - Robb** : yes...but the girls are gonna give me so much shit, especially if we look buddy-buddy in the photos

 

*

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**8:20am - Sansa** : so

**8:20am - Sansa** : richard madden was at that even last night huh? 

**8:20am - Sansa** : the fuck robb 

**8:21am - Robb** : i’m very proud of my ability to ignore the man all evening 

**8:22am - Jon** : he hid behind a plant at one stage 

**8:22am - Jon** : yes, everyone noticed 

**8:23am - Bran** : who’s the idiot now

**8:24am - Arya** : still you 

**8:25am - Bran** :

*

**The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: rare photo of Arya Stark growing up

*

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**2:11am - Bran** : you guys 

**2:11am - Bran** : anyone awake 

**2:12am - Arya** : yes but i’m trying to sleep 

**2:13am - Bran** : too late now fucknuts

**2:14am - Bran** : you ever think about davos hears the message alerts for this chat and just kinda….dies inside? 

**2:15am - Sansa** : oh for sure 

**2:16am - Jon** : I’ve seen his eyes close and pray for it 

**2:18am - Robb** : once in a meeting, i swear i saw him almost throw his phone across the room cause you guys wouldn’t shut up and he doesn’t know how to mute his phone 

**2:20am - Rickon** :  


**2:25am - Davos** : i think this is how you kids say it 

**2:25am - Davos** : mood

**2:25am - Bran** : DBIGIWEBGOUWR

**2:25am - Arya** : IUQWBIUBUIBUIBIUNOI

**2:25am - Sansa** : WTFFFFFFFFFFFF

**2:25am - Jon** : i’m fucking dreaming 

**2:25am - Rickon** : I CAN’T BREATHE 

**2:25am - Robb** : im

**2:26am - Arya** : WHAT IN THE WORLD IM LIVING 

**2:26am - Davos** : go to bed

*

**The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: a queen can party 

@PrincessSansa: @TheRoyalMemeFamily we stan a legend

**Mother of Dragons** @QueenDany: @TheRoyalMemeFamily @PrincessSansa i seem to remember this was at least two bottles of wine in for you 

@PrincessSansa: @QueenDany @TheRoyalMemeFamily pretty sure you were 4, but who was counting 

 

*

 

@DailyMail: it’s highly inappropriate for a sitting monarch and other royal members to be out drinking and showcasing that online - read the article here 

@QueenDany: @DailyMail

@PrincessSansa: @QueenDany @DailyMail

  
  


*

**The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily:Royal bodyguard spotted yet AGAIN with a different model

@TheRoyalMemeFamily: who is he 

@PodrickPayne: @TheRoyalMemeFamily   


 

*

 

**Arya ‘Not Today’ Stark** @AryaStark:    


**@** JonSnow: @AryaStark 👀

@PrincessSansa: @AryaStark 👀

@RealBranStark: @AryaStark 👀

@RickonStark: @AryaStark 👀

@RobbWinterfell: @AryaStark 👀

 

*

 

@RickonStark: 

@RickonStark: That’s it. That’s the tweet

 

*

 

**8:29pm - Pod** : so what youre saying is that i’m a chad? 

**8:29pm - Sansa** : no a himbo is necessarily a chad 

**8:30pm - Pod** : im more himbo than chad 

**8:31pm - Sansa** : you can be a chad if you’re not a himbo but you can’t be a himbo if you’re not a chad 

**8:32pm - Gendry** : you guys know this is the group chat right? 

**8:33pm - Sansa** : now gendry is a chad 

**8:35pm - Gendry** : low blow sansa


	10. And I Want You So Badly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG TIME NO SEE! So, I did nanowrimo 2019, and I worked on my book and NOTHING ELSE. so it's a miracle that i've managed to write this chapter in like two days. I hope you guys enjoy my comeback. hopefully it isn't crap. i very much enjoyed writing this chapter! happy to be back and happy to give you guys some happiness.......  
> NOTE! no beta reads have been done, so im sorry for all the mistakes

Gendry stood at her doorway, stealing kiss after kiss, Arya’s small smile into each making him feel alive. Regardless of how many times he did it, he never got tired of kissing her - she was joy incarnate for him, a source of light when everything around him was dark. 

“I have to go, they’re going to call a meeting soon,” Gendry said in between kisses. 

“I wonder why. You’re always late,” Arya laughed, pulling on his tie to keep him in place.

“I needed to get you up somehow, wasn’t my fault you kept my head between your legs,” he reminded as Arya giggled, her hand on the back of his neck, almost forcing him to stay. Under any other circumstances, he’d stay and finish the job of that morning, but the time was being pushed. 

“Shut up before someone sees you,” she said, planting one more kiss on his lips, shoving his chest. 

“I’ll be back in like twenty minutes, don’t do anything reckless in the meantime,” he said, fixing up his jacket and tie, trying to seem like he was actually in order. He wasn’t, but it was good to pretend, considering what a mess his life was. Secretly dating royalty was one thing, but also being her bodyguard was another act of ‘you’re a complete dumbass if you think you’re getting away with this’ but hey, he was having fun in the meantime. 

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Arya smirked, and Gendry moved back into her space, kissing her with the depth only the night should ever bring. Her moan was intoxicating to listen to, and it became even harder to pull away. 

“I’m serious, don’t fuck me over,” he said, wrenching himself from her hold and moving down the hallway quickly. 

“I thought I already did that,” she said, and Gendry stopped, looking at her with wide eyes and a shocked expression. She was begging for them to be caught out.

“Oh shut up,” she shot back, watching as a bright smile echoed on her face. It filled him with a joy he couldn’t quite describe. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, waving over his shoulder as he moved down the hall and got into the role of bodyguard he had somewhat forgotten among the night in the sheets of royalty.

 

*~*~*

 

Arya knew that Gendry was going to be longer than twenty minutes, as she texted Brienne about going to breakfast. By Brienne’s message, it was clear that her twenty minute wait for Gendry would be closer to an hour. So, in the meantime, she organised with Sansa to walk around the palace grounds after they grabbed a quick breakfast. 

On the second floor landing, amongst the construction for the elevator, the sisters walked arm in arm, their legs overlapping as they walked, with Arya’s left leg going far and Sansa’s left crossed in front of Arya’s right. It continued with each leg and each direction. 

With the workers all moving about, the girls just walked back and forth, not really minding the small interruptions. It was funny, as they walked, silence taking them to their phones, it was clear that they were both texting people they couldn’t see. Sansa, with her mystery man (aka, Theon), and Arya, with Gendry. As Gendry sent her a suggestive message, Arya laughed. 

“So…” Sansa said, putting her phone in her pocket. 

“So, what?” Arya said, putting her own in her back pocket.

“Make up sex?” Sansa asked. 

Arya shrugged, “It was good.” 

Sansa stopped, making Arya looked back at her stunned sister. “Wow, just outright admitting it, huh?” Sansa faltered, blinking at Arya. 

“Why shouldn’t I? You asked, and he was very good,” she replied, watching as Jon came up behind Sansa, walking fast and his hand on the button his suit jacket. He was obviously late for a meeting with Robb, if Arya’s money was right. 

“Who was very good?” he asked as he walked past. 

“Your best friend,” Arya called out, to only have Sansa’s fist meet Arya’s ribs. 

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Jon said over his shoulder, continuing on like nothing had ever happened. Arya looked to Sansa, her face still stuck in the constant state of disbelief. Arya shrugged again. 

“I told him, he just didn’t listen.” 

To that, Sansa scoffed. “He’s going to kill you both when he realises.” 

“Sansa, it’s Jon. I could be getting married in front of the twat and he’d think it was a joke. Would take him five years to realise I wasn’t kidding, and still something in the back of his mind would think I was playing a prank on him,” she explained and Sansa gave an agreeing nod. 

“To be fair to him, you’ve made that man paranoid as fuck over the years,” she replied. 

“Good. Made him a good head of security for Robb. Protects the shit out of our brother,” Arya explained, and to that Sansa scoffed.

“I can’t tell if you actually thought about this, or have reasoned it along the way,” Sansa stated, looking Arya over, who only smiled a wicked grin in reply, “you’re a scary, scary woman.” 

“I feel like muffins. You want a muffin?” Arya played off, skipping down the hall and leaving Sansa to shake her head. 

“Don’t forget! Our dress fitting is at four!” she said, raising her voice and Arya raised a thumb in the air.

“I won’t forget.” 

“Pretty sure a guy with a square jaw and dark hair might make you forget,” Sansa called out, and Arya agreed, biting her lip and skipping down the hall, guiding her way towards the business quarters of the palace. 

In Arya’s mind, she had every intention of snatching up Gendry, taking him back to her room and having her way with him. She didn’t care if she had things to do that day, or that he may be required or a possible interruption occurred. She just wanted to have her boyfriend. A foreign concept for her - a significant other was always a rarity in her life. She’d had sex, sure. When she was on exchange, she’d have one night stands and flings with men and women all across Braavos. But boyfriends, or girlfriends, it was always a distant, or nonexistent possibility.

Then Gendry came. He was a possibility, then, a reality, and it still threw her at times. 

By the time she got to the security teams meeting room, they were dispersing, and Arya saw as each member of the security team clapped Gendry on the shoulder, whispering something to him. 

In her stomach, something twisted, that something was wrong but she couldn’t work out what. Part of her, an insecure part, told her it was something to do with Gendry and her, but that couldn’t be. Gendry was a private guy, he wouldn’t brag. Plus, he’d lose his job, not gain attention and congratulations. 

When he was finally left alone, Arya cautiously walked to him, and he perked, smiling to her as she came into his line of sight. She swallowed before she asked the question. 

“What was all that?” 

“They were just giving me a birthday bonus,” he explained, showing off an envelope before he put it into his breast pocket.

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” she asked, and he gave a bashful nod. “You’ve been with us for like a year and a half, how could I have missed this?” she said, and Gendry’s hands went to her waist, bringing her into him, her own arms curling around the small of his back as she pouted. 

“To be fair, when it was my birthday last year, you weren’t too happy with me being around, I didn’t expect you to remember anything about me,” he reminded, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“But it’s your birthday and I didn’t get you anything!” she said, a worried crease wearing into her brow. Gendry chuckled, his nose brushing her own.

“I mean, this morning was definitely a present for me,” he smirked, and she punched at his chest.

“Fuck you, it was not.” 

“Arry, it’s fine!” he laughed, rubbing at where she punched.

“We’re supposed to be a couple, and I don’t even know my own boyfriend’s birthday. I’m so crap at this,” she cursed, her chin falling to her chest. In a breath, Gendry’s thumb and finger gripped her chin and made her look at him. His eyes were so blue, it made Arya’s heart jump into her throat.

“Arry, it’s fine. I don’t want anything. Being with you is enough for me,” he said, voice low and edging towards something that could make her reckless. The smirk at the corner of his lips confirmed that was what he wanted. 

“Ew, you’re so gross and needy,” she teased.

“I would like to remind you of how you reacted after we had -” 

Arya smacked her hand to his mouth and rose on her toes. “LA LA LA LA!  _ I can’t hear you! _ ” she laughed, and beneath her hand, she felt the breath of his own laughter coming through. It made everything so worthwhile, every time she was nervous or when her heart leapt from its place in her ribcage; the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the smiles and smirks that filled out his face - it was all enough to make everything feel easy. 

For the remainder of the day, they mostly stayed in her room. Although part of her wanted him to ruin every aspect of her room, taint every inch of furniture, Gendry reasoned that getting caught with a princess was something that could risk not only his firing, but kind of treason? To that, they mainly sat on her bed, talking about things that they didn’t know about each other, and watched some movies. 

As well as intermittently kissing each other.

During one boring movie, and the tension too much to bare, Arya climbed into Gendry’s lap, kissing him with all the need she had been holding in since that morning. It wasn’t her fault that she was as horny as anything. He forced it on her by waking her up like that. It was a surprise, and one that kept her wishing for it all day. 

Gendry’s hands were tight in her ass, fingers dangerously close to slipping past and playing with flesh that he was well accustomed to in the morning. Arya moaned into every touch, trying to see what would urge him on. With her hands on his neck, Arya pulled him flush against him, trying to see what would set him off and get the aggressive man that first took her to bed. Instead, her phone went off, making them pull apart briefly.

With a huff, Arya reached for her phone, Gendry moving up to kiss at Arya’s neck. God, why did his lips have to be so soft and inviting? It made concentrating on her texts impossible. She flicked to her message app and found the texts that had interrupted them.

**3:02pm - Sansa** : you better not be having sex with your guy when we’ve gotta leave

**3:03pm - Sansa** : get out of his lap, or i will come up there and tape you two 

**3:03pm - Sansa** : which will be more traumatizing to me than it is to you

“Oh shit, I have to go! I have to get to a dress fitting,” Arya said, pushing herself out of Gendry’s hold and his back met the mattress easily. Arya went through her closet, finding a pair of jeans and shirt that wasn’t ruined from fondling her boyfriend.

“Dress fitting?” Gendry said, and Arya heard the shifting of her bed frame. She stripped her shirt off and pulled her new one on as she collected boots at the foot of the door. There, she saw Gendry standing, trying to fix up his suit. 

“Robb’s wedding. We left the dresses to last minute when we were helping Talisa decide on hers. It was a big disaster at the time,” she explained, pushing a boot on and smacking it to the floor to get the perfect fit. 

“His wedding is in like two months,” he reminded, and Arya nodded in agreement.

“This is very last minute, Gendry.” 

“You need me to drop you off?” he asked, going to stand again, but Arya moved into his space, her second shoe barely on. 

“I’ll go with Sansa and Sandor,” she said, hands on his shoulders, and finally she was able to kick her boot on.

“That guy hates me,” Gendry sighed, and Arya chuckled. 

“He hates everyone that isn’t royal. And even then, the line is a little thin.” She gave a quick kiss to Gendry’s cheek and grabbed a jacket on her chest of drawers. “Bye, love you,” 

“Love you too,” he said a little bewildered, “be safe!” He called out and Arya raced down the stairs to see Sansa waiting by the car. Arya jumped in first, as Sansa unfolded her arms and climbed in after.

“What? I wasn’t allowed to catch you guys in the act?” she asked.

“You interrupted that, thank you very much,” Arya said, getting comfortable in her seat. 

“You guys are just horny.” 

“Can’t deny what’s true.” 

The sisters looked at each other and laughed. 

 

*~*~*

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**3:32pm - Bran** : my spotify wrapped dragged me into an alley and beat the shit out of me

**3:33pm - Sansa** : Which artist got you through your depression?

**3:34pm - Bran** : Bon Iver

**3:34pm - Arya** : just the one song?

**3:35pm - Bran** : 127 hours

**3:36pm - Arya** : its like your own personal arm caught in between a large rock and a wall

**3:36pm - Bran** : maybe it was my legs instead

**3:38pm - Bran** : too soon again?

**3:39pm - Theon** : did i listen to 10 years of heartache whilst in a happy relationship? You bet

**3:40pm - Robb** : theon...read the room

**3:40pm - Theon** : sorry

**3:40pm - Theon** : thought it was relevant

**3:41pm - Sansa** : it is sweetie, you’re doing amazing 

 

*~*~*

 

“Nope,” Arya spat, folding her arms over the monstrosity that was the dress she was currently pinned in.

“It’s the bridesmaid dress, Arya, you have to wear it,” Sansa reminded. 

It was a purple and white mess, sticking out from her waist and going to her knees. It was a mix of tulle and ribbon, that that stars sewed into different sections of it. It was looked like something a child would wear. And it was their bridesmaid dress. Either Talisa had lost her mind or she just wanted to outright torture Arya. Either way, she was succeeding. 

“I won’t go,” Arya tightened her grip on her arms as she remained defiant. 

“You can’t not attend the future king’s wedding,” Sansa reasoned.

“Don’t care. Can’t make me wear this.” 

“But Arya,” Sansa tried to persuade right before her face broke out into a wide grin and she gripped into her knees. She wailed out a laugh, clutching at her stomach as she tried to keep it all in. “I’m sorry, I was trying to keep a straight face for so long!” Arya turned to her, hitching up the dress and kicking at Sansa’s side.

“You asshole!” 

“You were scared though,” Sansa laughed, moving away from Arya, most likely for fear of another attack that would have come if Sansa had stayed close. 

“It’s a nice dress, but what the fuck kinda person would let this slide for a royal wedding?” 

Talisa had come in at the exact moment, putting her bag down and opening her arms up to Sansa. “Oh, don’t worry little one, I would never pick something so awful for my wedding,” she said, embracing Sansa and moving onto Arya. They quickly hugged before Arya stood with her arms crossed again. 

“Where’s the real thing?” Arya huffed. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Sansa confirmed before Talisa ushered in the dress makers. 

“Okay, you two. Go get changed, we need sizes,” she said, and Arya and Sansa were hurried off. 

It wasn’t long after Arya and Sansa were midway through getting changed that they heard a commotion at the front door. Both sisters poked their heads out of their respective dressing rooms to see Ygritte in her workout clothes, gym bags falling to the ground as she rushed inside. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” she yelled, moving towards Talisa, “hey, Tal, practise ran late and I knew I couldn’t be all sweaty,” she said, kissing Talisa’s cheek and rushing back with the seamstresses.

“It’s okay, as long as we get all the measurements figured out, it shouldn’t be a worry,” she yelled as Ygritte went back to her room and waved to the sisters. 

As they were ready, they were called out front for Talisa to inspect the dresses. Arya stood beside Sansa, both of them silently judging the dresses. It wasn’t bad, it was a good judgment! It was an air force blue silk with sky blue undertones of fabric beneath it. It flowed and allowed an ethereal look to those that wore it. On both Stark girls, the colour suited their skin tone, and a bonus for Arya, was the fact that it was Arya’s favourite colour earned Talisa a lot of praise in her book. 

The only thing that Arya didn’t like was the neckline. The silk went into a v-neck, showing off tits for those that had any - a category that Arya wasn’t included in - yet the skin was on the chest was covered by a sheer lace embroidery of leaves and feathers. As Ygritte walked out, pushing down the silk, she grumbled, trying her hardest to adjust the lace front, just as annoyed with it as Arya. 

Talisa clicked her tongue, tilting her head and shaking it once she saw it on the three women that were set to be her bridesmaids. “I’m thinking of leaving the lace out, just have it a plunging v-neck? Thought?” 

“Please,” Ygritte whined, and Talisa giggled, noting it to her seamstress.

“You’re really juggling the whole Olympics, royal engagement thing,” Sansa commented, finally touching the lace front and grimacing as she laid a finger on it. Arya was sure that if Ygritte or Arya hadn’t said a word, she would have grinned and bared it - just to make her future sister in law happy. Arya wasn’t that kind to people’s feelings. 

“Seeing as how your brother-cousin still hasn’t proposed, it isn’t that bad,” Ygritte complained and and the Stark girls groaned. 

“He still hasn’t!? I’m going to kick his ass,” Arya sneered, readying to leave at any moment. 

“I think he’s thinking of stealing Robb’s thunder and doing it at the rehearsal dinner,” Ygritte

“He better,” Sansa mumbled under her breath. Everyone heard it, regardless if she were trying to hide it or not. 

“I don’t want to take away from you two,” Ygritte said as Talisa moved closer to the three. She felt the fabric before she looked up at Ygritte. 

“He’s been waiting too long as it is, so I’ll push him to,” she said, scrunching up her nose as she smiled. 

“Thanks,” Ygritte said back in a quieter voice. 

“And you all look so beautiful,” Talisa said, ending with a sigh, “I’m going to have the perfect wedding.” 

“Yes you are!” Sansa squeaked and brought everyone closer, making them all bind together in a hug that seemed to last an eternity. 

Arya wasn’t too upset if that was what eternity looked like. 

After the last measurements for length and fit were taken, the women all changed, getting back into their clothes and started to head out of the store. As they all gathered their things, Sansa gasped, gripping into Arya’s arm as if she came up with a devilish idea. 

Arya was immediately intrigued. 

“Oh, is Dany coming?” Sansa asked. The women turned to her, before going back to Talisa. Daenerys Targaryen was such a force of nature, so many kingdoms across the seven feared her. Not the Starks, however, as they had so many successful trades and peaceful meetings. When it came time for Dany to rule, she got on with everything and bonded with the kids far quicker than any of them thought on surface level. She even had Tyrion Lannister on her side, a talking point at most functions. 

Sansa and Dany were close, bonding over the years. As Arya was the rebel of the bunch, she’d only had a few conversations with Dany, but they went well. Arya loved her hounds more than anything. They were beasts that were bred to hunt bears, huge dogs that almost towered over her; they fit in well in the north, but Dany loved them and took them north as often as she could. 

“We got word from the Lannisters and the Targaryens, they’re coming,” Talisa confirmed before they all started walking out of the shop and going around to the cars down the street. It wasn’t far, but the journey gave them enough time to gossip slightly. 

“I wanted to see if Dany was bringing her new guy,” Sansa said, biting her lip and Arya pounced on her sister, grabbing hold of her arm tightly.

“Is it -” 

“Yep!” Sansa squeaked and Arya dropped her arm, covering her mouth as she stood, astonished at this new revelation.  

“Holy shit,” she exclaimed under her breath as she looked to Sansa for confirmation once more. 

“Who?” Ygritte asked. 

“Khal Drogo,” Sansa said

“Fucking Drogo!? The chief of the Dothraki?” Ygritte shouted before covering her mouth, realising her voice was much louder than she once thought. 

“Isn’t he the same guy that throws those wild parties and that your dad wants to drink under the table?” Talisa confirmed, and Arya nodded. 

“Oh dad’s definitely tried. But the Lannisters hate him because of his views of crime and punishment. Heaps of nations are wary of him. But he’s really kind and generous with his people and they mean a lot to him. He’s really big on his culture and educating the masses,” she explained as they all walked down the street. They had a few scattered security guards walking across the opposite street, their eyes on the royals and keeping them safe from a distance. 

Sansa bounded forward, taking the confirmation back to the start. “Dany’s had a crush on the guy for years after seeing the video of him at the school opening where they performed the dance to celebrate good fortune and prosperity. They met at a banquet when she went travelling to different nations.” 

“She’s so tiny!” Arya blurted the words that were pressing to the front of her mind. 

Talisa gasped, turning sharply to her. “Arya!” 

“What?! You seen that guy? He’s huge! He’d ruin her,” Arya said, and all of the women laughed.

Sansa leaned down to Arya, so only they two could hear. “You’d know something about that,” she whispered, and Arya jabbed a finger into Sansa’s side. Arya chewed on her lip as she held in a laugh that agreed with Sansa’s statement. 

They got to a car first, to have a few members of the security team come. Arya recognised Sam, who opened the door for Talisa. They all smiled as Talisa waved from the car door. 

“See you later, ladies!” she called out, only for Ygritte to be the car ahead. 

“I’ve got to go meet with some trainers, but I’ll see you two at dinner,” Ygritte said. 

“We’ll kick Jon for you,” Arya offered.

“Hey, that’s my job.” Ygritte smiled and waved the two of them off. As the cars departed, it was only Arya and Sansa left, and with their car at the end of the street, Arya walked past stores and shops that she had ignored the first time they had past. 

When one caught her eye, she yanked Sansa back. 

“Oh! Can we go in here for a sec?” 

“Why?” 

“It’s Gendry’s birthday,” Arya whispered, holding tight to Sansa’s arm. To this, her sister rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, hopeless.”

They walked inside, and Arya looked through the collection, pointing out a few pieces she enjoyed and ones she thought would suit Gendry the most. A lot were discredited by Sansa, only for the pair to agree on one - one that blew them both away. 

Whilst in the shop, Arya couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, like she were being looked at in a greedy way. Her shoulders rolled awkwardly, and something in the pit of her stomach told her something was wrong. 

Before anything could come over it, they bought what they needed to, and left the store, heading back to the palace. 

By the time they were back, Arya forgot the interaction ever happened. 

 

*~*~*

 

When Arya left Gendry that afternoon, he wasn’t sure what else to do. He checked on security, ran tests and even spoke briefly with Robb. He was very impressed with Arya and how she was handling her new duties, even surprised that she was willingly participating with foundations and community possibilities. Gendry played off, making sure that word ran down the line that Arya worked hard because she cared deeply about her causes. 

In the rest of the time, any time he’d interact with someone new, they’d wish him happy birthday, and he’d have to end the conversations because his mum was calling for the fourth time that hour because she was crying about him getting old. 

As the family dinner came in, Gendry stood at the door waiting. The King was allowed back home  that day, and it was a great gesture of his strength when he was wheeled into the great hall. He gave Gendry a nod as he and the Queen made their way inside and took their seats. 

Soon that followed was Robb and Talisa, who were such deep conversation that they barely took a moment to glance up at him. He didn’t blame them, they were in the midst of organising the most intense day their country had seen in a very long time. Then, Jon was running to keep up with Ygritte who bound towards Gendry, asking him about the warhammer games that they both enjoyed. He didn’t get much into the conversation when Jon took them inside. Bran and Rickon came skidding in on Bran’s wheelchair, testing the traction on the wheels. It honestly surprised Gendry that they didn’t topple over with how hard they came rounding that corner, but they made it inside, cheering about their achievements. 

Sansa came next, so deep on her phone that she didn’t even notice Gendry and ran straight into him. “Oh, gods. I’m sorry!” she apologised. 

“No worries, your highness. Have a great meal,” he replied. 

“I’m sure you did this morning.” She winked before moving off like nothing had ever happened. He had doubts that Arya would tell Sansa about their intimate lives, but he had no doubts that she worked something out all on her own and really just worked things out on her own. He wasn’t sure how, but Sansa was scary good at that kinda thing. 

Then, came Arya who hurried over. He smiled wide as she ran towards him.

“How was the -” he started as Arya took his arm and ran with him in toes. “wow, where are we going?” he said as Arya guided them somewhere. 

“I want somewhere private,” she said, pushing open the doors to the front of the palace and having a moment off to the side. 

“Ah yes, outside is definitely private,” he scoffed. From behind Arya, she took out a small box, it wasn’t that wide, but its contents were unknown to him.

“Shut up, just open it,” she said, pushing the box into his hands. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A present.” 

“Arry, I told you -” Arya stopped his words by putting a finger to his lips and made him look at the present that was resting his hands. 

“I know what you told me, but I saw them and thought of you and your mum,” she said, and Gendry opened up the box, seeing a perfect pair of bronze stag cufflinks. Stag heads to be more exact. The bar. A lump formed at the back of his throat. 

“Wow,” he exclaimed. 

“Do you like them?” she asked, eager for a reply.

“Yeah,” he choked, holding a hand to his lips, “they’re proper mint.” He really wasn’t expecting anything, and this floored him. They must have been expensive, and they actually meant something to him. To both of them. 

“You’re so southern born, it’s ridiculous,” Arya giggled. 

“Hey, you’re dating me.” Gendry closed the box and put it in his breast pocket. 

“Yeah, I know,” she teased, dragging his collar down, planting a kiss on his lips. He shut his eyes, falling into her sway and loving every moment she lingered her lips to his own. 

Parting, he smoothed out her hair, and smiled down to her. 

“Go inside,” he said, forehead against hers, nose nudging nose. 

“Don’t be too long out here,” she warned. 

“I’m going on break, have a good dinner,” he said. 

Arya sighed. “I wish you could come.” 

“Someday, maybe,” he gave hope. 

“Love you,” she said, kissing him again. 

“Love you too,” he said, letting her move out of his hands. As she went through the doors, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, that there was something he was missing that was a threat. He was missing something, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it all was. 

There was something off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. 

Instead, he took out a pack of cigarettes and took one between his teeth. He swore to himself that he’d stop a long time ago, but with the twisting feeling in his stomach, he needed something to take the edge off. Anything. 

He sighed, letting it fall to the ground, squashing it under his shoe and moved back inside to take up whatever last minute job he needed to before heading home. 

Well, Arya’s room, then he’d be going home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bridesmaid dress  
> [look 1](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/5a1b48/1513006914/il_1588xN.1513006914_9t75.jpg)  
> [look 2](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/d64c33/1560470523/il_794xN.1560470523_30ce.jpg)  
> [look 3](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/8a3e79/1560468995/il_794xN.1560468995_27z6.jpg)  
> [look 4](https://i.etsystatic.com/8358698/r/il/029d92/1512994334/il_794xN.1512994334_m44j.jpg)


	11. Red Wedding Warning Signs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WEDDINGS ARE A GREAT PLACE FOR DISASTER, DIDN'T YOU HEAR?? 👀👀👀👀

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

 **7:30am - Sansa** : you guys….i look amazing 

 **7:31am - Jon** : k? 

 **7:31am - Sansa** : bitch dont ‘k’ me, i am a delight 

 **7:32am - Bran** : your personality tho…

 **7:32am - Bran** : 

**7:34am - Arya** : what if i said i look amazing

 **7:34am - Rickon** : rare. Suspiciously optimistic. Must be true. 

 **7:35am - Robb** : agree with the above sentiment

 **7:35am - Bran** :  i believe her 

 **7:36am - Arya** : i’m also wearing what sansa is wearing, so we’re both equally beautiful, now compliment the eldest daughter before i murder everyone

 **7:36am - Arya** :  including you robb, don’t think I’ll go easy on you just cause you’re getting married 

 

*~*~*

 

 **7:40am - Sansa:** 😘

 **7:40am - Arya:** 😘

Arya threw her phone aside as she tried to think of shoes that she could get away with. The heels were a pale blue colour, but the height of them frightened her more than any other heel she was challenged with in her life. She’d be about Rickon’s height in them, which felt like a lot when she stood in front of her mirror. She knew she wasn’t tall, but the heels made it obvious that she was like a stunted idiot. 

But their height was going to be the give away that she wasn’t wearing said torture devices. Pulling the strap onto the back of her ankle, she stood with the cascading silk running over her body, and from once she thought of herself as a woman masquerading in the beauty, it had now become her - for that how she always saw herself. Her make up had been done that morning alongside Sansa, the two sisters chatting over coffee that was fuelling their lucidity. They were excited for the coming day. 

Arya and Sansa had come up with a code around others when regarding Gendry. If they wanted to keep Arya’s happiness a secret for a little while longer, he was referred to as Joe. He was Arya’s boyfriend, and that she was seeing that day, he was going to the wedding, but he wouldn’t be able to stay long. 

From the information Arya gathered before the two were separated, was that Sansa’s boyfriend wasn’t attending at all. Arya knew that was a lie because Theon was one of the best men. Maybe it was because he was forced to attend, not just being her date. Made sense to Arya. 

Then, Arya got changed. She slipped into the dress and was left to get her things in order. There were still a few hours between then and when the wedding was meant to start. The girls had gotten up early due to the excitement. It was the first time one of their siblings was getting married and it was exhilarating. 

Overall, she just wanted to see Gendry. 

Since the dress fitting, it felt like the two months flew by without a breath in between. It took away most of her free time with the planning and helping out where she could. So, less time for Gendry, less kisses and all around job. But they found some spare moments to hide away and enjoy the seconds they could spend with one another. 

It meant everything to her that he dropped just about everything to be by her side. 

Well, given that every time she messaged him, she said it was an emergency, and he came running - it meant he was doing his job correctly. But still, she loved watching his face fall from horror to joy when she stood coyly at a cupboard door. 

Arya sent a text. _SOS_. 

Gendry replied, asking to meet her round side of the palace. 

She knew his spot.

Picking up the ends of her skirt, she went racing down the steps, a smile pinned into her face and there wasn’t any use trying to hide it.

 

*~*~*

 

Gendry had shrunk away to the side, making sure that his position wasn’t compromised in his absence. It would only be for a few minutes. He just needed a second. With the wedding and everything, it became harder and harder to fulfill his role as personal bodyguard, as he was subjected to be an everything sorta guy. He was on perimeter, for the palace and the churches venue. It wasn’t far off the palace grounds, as a Stark wedding needed to be close to the Godswood for part of the ceremonies purposes. Gendry wasn’t subjected to know what any of that would entail.

So, for the short time, he allowed himself to smoke, to set the edge off and allow himself to relax. It wouldn’t be long before Arya got there, and sneaking one in wouldn’t hurt. She kept getting mad at him for the sudden habit, but it had been something he had tried to stop since he started his job. It was an old army thing that he hadn’t quite shaken - it just helped with nerves that wouldn’t shake loose. 

“I thought we agreed that the smoking was going to stop,” he heard a voice nearby. He turned, seeing a radiant visage in front of him. He had never thought Arya could look anymore beautiful than when she was in that ball gown all those months ago, but she had just kept stunning him every day. That day, in that dress, she was like a walking goddess, someone that had stepped out from heaven to grant him some form of miracle. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, cigarette still in between his lips. Arya walked the distance between them, taking the cigarette out, letting it drop to the floor and he lifted his heel to stamp it out instead of her heels. 

She grinned before she replied. “I know.” 

“You’re gonna be amazing today,” he said, reaching over to her, taking hold of her waist as he fell back against the wall. From his positon, they were nearly the same height, though Arya was still a few inches from him. Arya’s arms went up and around the back of his neck, falling into his easily. 

“You think so? All I’m really doing is standing around looking pretty,” she 

“You’re already doing it, so you’re gonna nail this,” 

“Shut up,” she said, sneaking into his space and kissing him. Gendry sighed as her lips touched his. 

The crawling sensation that ran up his spine made him feel queasy, that he needed to grab hold of the gun on his hip. Something was wrong but he couldn’t work out what. He pulled away from Arya, holding onto her hips tightly as his forehead rested against hers. “Hey, is something bothering you? I feel like somethings off?” 

“No? I feel fine,” Arya shrugged. Gendry couldn’t shake it, like something was in the air that clung to bad energy. Arya sighed, hand running up the back of his neck and fingers lacing into his hair, “come here,” she said, and before he could ask, her lips were on his again, more fully and deepening like she meant for it to lead back to her room. He couldn’t argue with that. Hands roaming around the back of her waist, he pulled her flush against her, hand sliding down her back and finding the round softness of her ass. “You nervous now?” she asked, pulling away. A need tugged at the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m going to lie and say no, because I want you to kiss me again,” he replied with a smirk.

“Your wish is granted,” she smiled before pulling him down once more. He guessed he was right - he was definitely there to grant him some form of miracle. 

 

*~*~*

 

As 9:30am came around, Gendry was in personal bodyguard role. They had to make a royal entrance, the church on the property, but in order to feel more open with the public - it was the first televised wedding, with almost full access to the people, after all. So, they were to do a full, formal parade out of the palace grounds before re-entering and welcoming all the guests. 

Gendry rode in Arya and Sansa’s car, the windows wide and the ability to see inside made Gendry’s stomach ache from all the possibilities. It didn’t matter though, as they continued on, waving to the people of the nearby town. Gendry even saw his mum out, waving frantically to his car. He smiled before returning to his concern. Overall, the entire thing went off without a hitch.

For Northern weddings, everything was different to what Gendry knew in the South. Regardless of family members part in the wedding, they needed to greet the bride or groom as a formed pack. Everything was about unity, especially family - the introduction of a new member was fital to the survival. There had been times in the past where Northerners wouldn’t attend their siblings wedding, as a sign of disrespect and ill-trust of the one entering the family. 

That wouldn’t be the case on that day. 

Each guard took their respective person down the aisle of the church. Robb was waiting alongside Jon, then it was Sansa and Sandor, then Arya and Gendry, followed by Bran and Pod, then finally Rickon and Osha. 

Robb was dressed in his military uniform, a bright red coat with a bright blue sash over his chest. Over his shoulders sat a traditional wolf pelt, synthetic fur as times changed, that all Starks wore - each gifted one when they were born and would use on certain occasions - marriage, birthdays, coronations, and finally when they were laid to rest. It was morbid, sure, but the North was built on traditions.

Along the way, Robb was making a grimacing face, the two sisters looking at each other before Sansa gestured to the side. From the corner of his eye, he saw the person that, under any other circumstance would have the girls screaming in joy, but they contained themselves. 

Arya reached into the pocket of her dress and quickly typed out something. His phone went off a moment later with the notification. Gendry checked, and rolled his eyes. 

 **The Memes of the Royalest Kind** @TheRoyalMemeFamily: IS FUCKING RICHARD MADDEN AT THE WEDDING?!?! IRGHWORIGOWR GUYS SOMEONE GET A SCREENSHOT I’M GONNA FUCKING DIE

Gendry pocketed his phone in his breast pocket once more, leaning down to Arya. “Stop tweeting about Richard Madden,” he whispered. Arya scoffed, putting her phone away and stopping as Sansa kneeled before Robb. 

“He’s right there, Gendry! How am I not meant to -” 

“We get it, he looks like your brother, but you have to admit, Maisie Williams looks a hell of a lot like you,” he reminded. 

“She wishes she looked like me,” she scowled, before moving off and Gendry moved to the wall. He had to stay there for the entire ceremony, unless he felt like Arya’s life was in danger. Any moment he was with her, his mind raced with that possibility, but he was on extra alert in case someone got ballsy for the occasion. 

His hands behind his back, he watched Arya stand next to her sister and brothers, the perfect line of Starks, authority ranging down the line. From his attention on Arya, Gendry heard a giggling close by and a cocky scoff at his side. Rolling his eyes, Gendry jabbed his elbow into Podrick’s side. 

“Please stop making eyes at the other royals here,” Gendry groaned under his breath. Pod shifted beside Gendry, turning to him as he rubbed at his side. 

“Not like they’d touch you with a ten foot pole,” Osha replied nearby and Gendry held in a laugh that desperately wanted to come out. Podrick straightened out and moved back to his original position to look at Bran in his chair. After the accident, it seemed like he became a little more reckless than before - wheeling himself back and balancing there, much to Rickon’s delight. 

“You’d be surprised how they want to touch me,” Pod said and both Gendry and Osha groaned in disgust. 

“God I wish I could use this gun on you and then myself,” Osha said, adjusting her uniform. Gendry always found that Osha didn’t like being a bodyguard - not for royalty anyway - she found the strictness of it all to be too confining, and dispised most of the people around her. She only really cared about Rickon, which got her in good graces with the King and Queen. 

“We’re not allowed to use our guns for personal use,” Podrick reminded.

“I don’t think that’s what they mean,” Gendry said, then poked his head out to see Osha,  “but he is right.” 

“Not like I’d ever get any repercussions for it,” she countered. 

Gendry raised his brow in surprise, nodding as he realised she was right too. “Stop making it seem like a fun idea.” He shook his head at it. 

She scoffed, fixing up her knotted bun when Rickon waved to her. “It is when Pod’s around.” 

It wasn’t long before music started to play, heads turned to the open doors, and the hundreds of people at the gates turned from average cheering to deafening wails of joy. Gendry took one look at Robb, who had to remain facing the opposite way, smile to himself. Jon leaned over, whispering something to him. It only made Robb laugh. 

Gendry wondered, in a very selfish way, if on his wedding day it would be like that, to be a spectacle in front of many, but joy filling him regardless of the attention. He would just be happy that Arya would be walking towards him, in whatever she would feel comfortable in, a beautiful and elegant woman that blew him away with every passing second. 

He hadn’t realised it when it was running through his mind, that marrying would entail Arya, and only Arya. It was selfish, and quite possibly cocky, but as he looked at her, her cheeks plump with rosy delight, he didn’t care. Gendry wanted to marry Arya Stark, the third in line for the throne, but her title meant nothing to him. It was just her. 

When she walked down, the voices and heads kept a good view of Talisa, but when she came into his line of sight, Gendry felt like Robb was a very lucky man. She was the perfect vision of a waiting bride and future royal all in one. 

Talisa wore a white dress with grey finishings, leaves and vines scattering the skirt, with the bodice resembling that of holding the whole garment together. It was something that a forgein bride would wear, as wolves were customary in the northern designs. What Talisa wore was exotic, regal, and the tiara that sat upon her head was wrapping vines meeting at the jewel - held together by two opposing wolves. It was the only wolf attire that she wore. 

In all, she looked like she were transitioning to a Stark, a slow and gradual way, though many of the royals considered her family already. Ygritte followed behind, flowers in hand as the bridesmaid. She forced a smile, seemingly uncomfortable with being a spectacle, but soon, she went to her place as a bridesmaid as Talisa went to next stage in her progress into becoming a Stark. 

At the foot of the alter, the Stark children greeted Talisa. A hand to the left side of the chest, a vow to love with all their hearts and welcoming her to the pack. They would kiss her cheek on either side and bow before going to their seat. Bran was unable to bow, per say, so instead, he let his head fall, to which Talisa kissed at his crown. When he looked back up to her, a bright smile, like one that he had been ashamed to show, came out in full force. 

Arya, who looked like she wanted to embrace Talisa more than just give her a sign of respect, beamed a smile and whispered something to her future sister in law. As Arya went to her spot beside Ygritte, followed soon after by Sansa. Jon was even given a moment of respect from Talisa before she was met by the King and Queen. King Ned had regained most of his mobility, but occasionally required a cane to help him around. On this day, he looked like a mighty King, proud and regal as any other healthy king. To that, Talisa knelt all the way to the floor, her dress fanning out, her head bowed to them as they rested hands on either shoulder, speaking good wishes upon her marriage. Then, as they departed for their seats, it was finally time for Robb to see his wife to be. 

When he turned, Gendry understood the joy, a smile breaking out onto Robb’s lips that captivated his entire face, making the wrinkles around his eyes even more pronounced. He chuckled as he saw her, and she did the same, their dignities lost to the joy they felt coming together in a union they had decided upon.  

The ceremony was as dragging as any other wedding Gendry had been to - they weren’t as exciting as others made them out to be. Yet, the intriguing part was a portion of the ceremony that was seen by only the bride and groom, their priest, and gods - to take place in the Godswood. From what Gendry remembered, it was very important that the Godswood was respected, as it would bless the couple with good fortune, children, and health throughout their marriage. He wasn’t sure what was said, but when they had returned, they held hands, bound together with a red ribbon, keeping their union together. 

The interesting part for Gendry was now, Talisa wore Robb’s cloak. It hung off her shoulders in a heavy garment, but she didn’t seem to mind. She still looked like she belonged amongst the family that stood before him. 

They exchanged a kiss for the public and cheers were heard roaring from beyond the church’s walls. Gendry smirked, joining in on the gathering applause for the newly wed. 

As the royals left the church, Gendry and the other guards all took stations to make sure they were secure as they made their way to the palace. It wasn’t a long journey by any means, but it was to be safe nevertheless. Once instead, they all moved to the top balcony, one in which the people waiting at the gates could see. Gendry waited inside the palace, keeping an eye on everyone as they passed through. Arya gave him a wink as she went through the doors and he smiled to himself. 

Then, as Robb and Talisa made their way onto the balcony, the people roared to life once more, celebrating the married couple. They kissed and embraced without restraint. It wasn’t common for royalty to be outwardly affectionate to the public, but they were - they couldn’t help themselves. Gendry knew, if he lived a different life, he’d always be seen with Arya, giving her every ounce of affection he had to offer her. 

Coming in from the balcony, the royal family were gathered, arranging when and where everyone was needed for coming photoshoots. Arya snuck to the pack of people alongside Gendry, hiding them from sight, and finally having a moment alone. In a split second between worry and longing, he reached down between them. Gendry held her hand, winding his fingers with hers in the depths of the crowd. In his mind, Gendry was hyper aware that people were around, but in the chaos of a loving day, he didn’t care. He wanted to hold hands with the princess that was his girlfriend. He wanted to love her as freely in public as in private. Looking up to him, fingers tightening around his own, her smile told him that she was feeling the same. 

The commotion of a coming opportunity to act like idiots the family was used to doing, Arya bound towards her siblings, and Gendry was whisked around to keep an eye on them all from the sidelines. With predictions on course, all the Stark siblings climbed over each other, posing with Talisa who joined in on the joy of being an idiot amongst idiots. When they decided they all had to climb on top of Bran’s wheelchair, Catelyn finally chimed in and got them to behave. 

After taking formal photos, they gathered downstairs in the ballroom for the guests that had arrived from nations far and wide. In the midst of the night, Gendry watched Sansa and Arya scream and pounce on a foreign Queen, who did the same when she saw the sisters. They laughed and joked before a brooding man hovered over the Queen’s shoulder. Gendry thought he was a bodyguard until he smiled to the sisters and Gendry was set at ease. He recognised the man. 

Khal Drogo.

 

*~*~*

 

In spite of knowing he was arriving for the wedding, Arya was knocked completely for a loop when Drogo hovered over Dany’s shoulder, then broke into a giant smile. 

“My little princesses!” he yelled, accent thick and broad, gathering Arya and Sansa into his arms and picking them effortlessly off the floor. He held them tight and hugged them with all the force his arms could muster. Setting them down, he focused on Arya first. “You’ve grown! Tiny angry one even fits in dresses,” he said, he flicked her nose when she pouted. “My fire cracker, how are you? Still ruling world?” he asked Sansa, raising his brow and making her laugh.

“Always,” she nodded, regaining composure and raising her chin. Drogo nudged the edge of her chin and she laughed again. 

“Tiny angry, still kicking ass?” he asked, leaning down to her. She punched into his shoulder, making him stand up straight again.

“Always.” She smirked. 

“Perfect. Love strong women,” he said, his english stunted, but passion was true to form as he looked at Dany with a fondness that none of her other boyfriends had ever shown her, “now! The wine!” he called. When there was little response, he began to chant. “Wine! Wine! Wine! Wine!” 

“Khal!” Everyone turned to see Arya’s father almost charging across the room. 

“Ned! You half dead bastard, come here!” he yelled, Drogo picking up Ned just as briskly as he had picked up the petite women before. 

“Sorry, he doesn’t always know when to be quiet,” Dany laughed. 

“I’m sure,” Arya smirked. 

“You’re gross,” Dany scolded, and Arya couldn’t remove the smile from her lips.  

“Tell me I’m wrong,” she shrugged, and Dany shut her mouth quickly, a bright pink hue illuminating on her cheeks, “that’s what I thought.” Dany broke into a laugh, moving the distance between them and kissing Arya’s cheek, doing the same to Sansa. 

“It was lovely seeing you. I have to go rangle a giant man from killing your father.”  Her brow quirked and the girls laughed as they watched Dany almost racing over to their father and Drogo, who quickly tucked her underneath his arm and kissing at her crown. The admiration he held for her was so clear - a love that was so deeply rooted that neither of them could explain how it sprung about, but it was sprouting before they could question its origins.

During the rest of the afternoon and night, the family and guests gathered for dinner, and celebrated a true Northern feast. Arya would occasionally catch sight of Gendry who seemed confused by the feast, the one long table that made people jump up and walk around with food in palm. To him, it must have been strange, but it was everything that Arya had grown to know as fact over the years. 

When Robb and Talisa asked everyone back to the ballroom, the true party started, as the dance was a waltz for a short time, before the drinking brought everyone to their feet and dancing like the awful dancers they all were. Drogo showed off his amazing skills, as well as scaring half the elders of the Northern council. 

Romantic moments left Arya and Sansa sighing wistfully, pining for men they couldn’t be publicly seen with. Though, Arya wasn’t sure why Sansa hadn’t taken her relationship with Theon to the streets; he was a Lord afterall, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Arya, on the other hand, had to get through Gendry’s job and well...her mother, in order to go public. 

Arya, for the most part was happy with her happiness, for now at least. 

With drunks everywhere, Arya feeling a little tipsy herself, had been socialising amongst royals, lords, and friends that had been coming to such events for years. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw large arms flagging her down, waving wildly in her direction. Part of her thought it was Gendry, only to be met with a stumbling Drogo, moving towards her. 

“Tiny angry one, come here,” he said, a half drunk daze. Arya crept over to him, his arm over her shoulder as he whispered to her, “would you like to know secret?” 

“Yes,” she smiled, beaming up to him.

“I can speak your language perfectly, I’ve been faking it for years,” he said, a grin of a man that was proud of his accomplishments. All forms of drunk behaviour faded away. Arya stared up at him in shock.

“What? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because no one...will ever believe you,” he said, pulling away slowly, grinning to her, and maintaining eye contact.

“You sick son of a bitch,” Arya spat. When she was about to accost him for being an absolute prick all these years, when they both saw Dany waving him over. 

“Khal! Come here!” she called, and he smirked, wandering over like he had done to Arya not a moment before.

“I come moon of my life!” he said.

“I will expose you!” Arya shouted, Drogo turned with an exaggerated shrug. 

“I know not what that means!” he said, laughing as he raced over to Dany. 

All night, she realised, she had been watching Drogo and Dany; the love that they gave without hesitation, unbridled affection that never seemed to end - it was their first public outing, and yet, there wasn’t an ounce of fear among them. It made Arya jealous.  

Glancing around, she saw Gendry whisper to Pod, who nod and let Arya’s bodyguard walk away. Sneaking off to follow him, she watched as he had rounded a corner out the back, and lit a cigarette. Before he could get anything from it, Arya stepped into his line of sight, and spoke. 

“You shouldn’t sneak away,” she said, and Gendry snapped his attention to her like he had that morning, a bright smile forming on his face. Arya, once again, walked the distance between them and dropped the cigarette to the floor. “And you know smoking makes me want to kiss you less,” she reminded. She expected Gendry to huff out of the loss of his secret habit, but instead, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.

“Sorry. I promise I’ll stop,” he said, forehead resting against her own.

“You should. Otherwise you won’t be able to get to do this,” Arya’s voice trailed off into a whisper before she shoved him hard back against the wall and forced her lips to his. Gendry gave into it easily, giving as much as he got in return, hands tightening into her waist before they slid down her back, fumbling with her dress, riding it up her leg. Every trace of his fingers on her skin was electrifying for her, sending her into a frenzy to get more of him in such a short kiss. 

Gendry pulled away, though Arya had doubts that he truly wanted to do that. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this in public,” he panted, hand still firm in her ass. She didn’t care, the way his other hand raked up her dress was enough to have her eager for more. Pulling on his collar, she urged him off. 

“Then, take us somewhere private,” she said, kissing him again, teeth nipping at her lip as she deepened it the way she wanted. Why did he have to be the way he was? It drove her nuts, that she needed to be under his clothes and have him be with her, bare and free of everything that gave them names. Naked, alone together, in a bed that would only hold the two of them for a short time; they weren’t a princess and her bodyguard, they were just two people that loved one another without hesitation. 

“Arry,” Gendry panted, and Arya whined. 

“Gendry, move your ass.” 

“Get here,” he snarled, tugging her up from the ground, holding her bridal style with ease. She squeaked as she fell into his arms, and he smiled. “Can’t have a princess walking around with those tender ankles,” he teased out their forthcoming lie if they needed it.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, kissing him before he took them to her room. 

She had doubts that when they arrived, the passion and tension between them would still be firing, until they got there and the time lapsed was like nothing. Gendry put her back on her feet and kissed her as feverishly as she had outside. They scrambled over her room, tripping over themselves before landing at her chest of drawers. Gendry dug around in her draw, getting one of the remaining condoms and took his cock from his trousers. It took little prompting to have Arya up on the drawers and Gendry adjusting her underwear to the side, as he stole a heated kiss, he drove into her, making her pull away and moan with all the air left in her chest.

They were desperate for friction, for the other to just reach their end before they eventually caved. It was always a challenge with them, one that they both thrived on. Caring was a hopeless affair, as she clawed at Gendry’s back, panting as he made her chest of drawers rattle with the force of each thrust. With their bodies coming together, they kissed one another, breaking apart the moans that would have definitely kept the room a fountain of nonstop sex noises. 

But they didn’t care, as their lust out won them both, colliding together until they were panting for more. Arya came apart first, nails clutched into the back of Gendry’s neck as she held back her moan with lip between teeth. Gendry snapped his hips to hers in one final motion before he stilled for a few moments, breathing in hard puffs before his fingers came loose, no longer binding into her with desperation, but held her in affection, love, care. All wrapped up into their silent moment of breathing together. 

“I love you,” she panted, cheek resting on his shoulder before he cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes. 

Gendry kissed her over and over again, whispering words that made her heart flutter more than the sex did. “I love you too.”  

Everything else didn’t matter. 

It was only them. 

That’s all that mattered. 

In that moment, anyway. 

 

*

 

Arya sat down at the table for family breakfast, head and thighs aching. Everyone, including Robb and Talisa, were slumped in their seats, nursing coffees in silence in an attempt to quiet the pounding drums in their heads. The table was loaded with eggs, toast, fruit and cereals, everything you could want first thing in the morning, but Arya's stomach called for carbs, anything that could absorb whatever alcohol was left in her system. Either she was still swimming in it or she was still riding the high from last night, regardless, her body was barely functioning and she has never been more grateful for the closed curtains around the room.

Robb and Talisa sat opposite Arya - they were set to leave for their honeymoon the day after next, as Talisa wanted to go to a medical conference, but the date of the wedding had already been set. Not one to argue with his fiance, now wife, Robb agreed and they planned their honeymoon around Talisa’s wishes. It warmed Arya’s heart, but also made her want to throw up with how cute they were acting with one another over breakfast. Maybe that was the hangover still speaking, but she couldn’t have been sure. 

Rickon had been tossing his cereal over and over again, a grim look on his face 

Arya’s phone started to go off to everyone’s annoyance. 

“Family breakfast, Arya! No phones,” Jon groaned, head down on the table, Ygritte patting his back, and eating her breakfast like it was no problem. She drank Jon under the table like it was nothing. She matched with Drogo once, but the Starks hadn’t known her then - probably one of the reasons Jon loved her so much. 

“Sorry, it’s the twitter account. I left it on after Richard Madden hugged Robb last night,” Arya said with a mouthful of bread. 

“Did you post about it?” Robb groaned and Talisa giggled, remembering it just as clearly as Arya and Sansa had.

Sansa laughed, tossing over her eggs once more before putting the bacon between her teeth. “You should see how much people are freaking out.” 

“You sure Robb doesn’t have a twin,” Rickon asked, the family turning to Ned and Catelyn. Ned grinned over his coffee, and Catelyn groaned. 

“I gave birth to him, so yes, I’m sure, now eat your breakfast. And turn off your phone, Arya.” 

Arya nodded, putting her phone on silent, seeing the first notifications roll over her screen, and her curiosity was taken.

@wetbreadoffical: is this deadass???? #gendrya

@wetbreadoffical: @TheRoyalMemeFamily are yall forreal???

@wetbreadofficial: the clouds have parted, the sun shines through and princess arya has found love on this beautiful day

@aryastanstark: @TheRoyalMemeFamily OIEBDFOIERWG THIS CANNOT BE REAL, RIGHT?! @AryaStark @GendryWaters

@gendryaisreal: @TheRoyalMemeFamily WE FUCKING WON! We stand legends only 

@brekkersgendryl: @TheRoyalMemeFamily ARE MY FUCKING FAVES REALLY? We thrivin

@brekkersgendryl: if people are really trying to start shit like he’s doing this cause she’s royal never saw him at that event, himbo was all heart eyes SKJSJSHDB

@wetbreadofficial: u know when u remember that princess arya has found love and u just :')))

Arya’s brow furrowed as she tried to click on links, hand going over her mouth as she saw the headline. It was the worst thing she could have read that day. It couldn’t have been real. Could it? Maybe she was still dreaming? Fuck, this was bad. 

_Putting the Body in Bodyguard_

Under the headline were scattered photos from over months, secret moments that Arya thought were for only her and Gendry. The last few that were shown were ones that her mother would gasp at - Gendry groping into her backside, his hands hiking up her dress, him carrying her off to the palace. 

The article could have said a million things, saying all they wanted about Arya, all they wanted about _Gendry_ , but it was too late - the world knew. 

Panic set over her entire body, and she couldn’t breathe suddenly, like her vision became tunnelled and everything around her meant nothing but the article that sat in front of her. 

Something had been off for months, and they both knew, and did nothing. 

 _Gendry_. 

“No no no no no,” she muttered to herself, the chorus of her family’s voice asking if she’s alright.

“Arya, what is it?” her mother asked, Sansa leaning over to her to see the article.

“Shit,” she swore as Sansa mumbled the same sentiment. “shit!” Arya said, combing her hands through her hair. Arya shoved herself away from the table, pocketing her phone as Sansa got hers out, sending around the article. She watched as her siblings went tight lipped, and immediately sympathise with her. There wasn’t judgement, just worry. They all felt it. The urge of panic that came with this part of their lives. 

Her mother snapped at her. “Arya, please watch your -” 

“I have to go,” Arya yelled back, running out of breakfast and trying to remember the winding halls of her home. In the end, she just ran wherever her feet would fucking take her. 

 

*

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

 **9:26am - Jon** : Gendry and Arya?

 **9:26am - Sansa:** Please keep up

 **9:27am - Robb** : ...but the newspaper have just….

 **9:27am - Sansa:** hence her freak out, KEEP UP!

 **9:28am - Jon:** wait you knew?

 **9:29am - Bran:** everyone knew, stupid 

 **9:29am - Rickon:** even I knew, and I don’t get told anything 

 **9:30am - Sansa:** you know what this means 

 **9:30am - Jon:** please dont

 **9:31am - Sansa:** You know nothing Jon Snow

 **9:31am - Rickon:** You know nothing Jon Snow

 **9:32am - Robb:** You know nothing Jon Snow

 **9:32am - Bran:** You know nothing Jon Snow

 **9:34am - Jon:** fuck you guys

 **9:45am - Jon:** arya not replying isn’t a good sign is it?

 **9:41am - Sansa:** no it isn’t

 **9:41am - Sansa:** high alert, starks. High alert 

 

*

 

By the time all of her hiding places were searched and gone up in smoke, she pasted by the security offices, seeing the commotion of those around. In a split moment between wondering if she should ask them, she turned to see Brienne with Gendry on her heels. He looked like a mess, his uniform out of order, tie tugged almost completely out of its knot, and his hair was far from professional looking. 

Arya’s stomach twisted. 

She ran to him regardless. 

“Gendry!” she said, latching her hand onto his wrist, trying to pry him from the situation. 

“Not now,” he grumbled, pulling her hand from his arm. She tugged on him again, making everyone come to full stop. 

“Please don’t shut me out,” she whispered, her hands touching at his face, making him look at her. His eyes were dark - they lost their spark. He wasn’t the Gendry she knew anymore. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

“Arya,” Brienne started, “please move away from Gendry.” 

“Brienne, this isn’t -” 

“Princess!” Brienne raised he voice, and for the first time ever, Arya jumped at the sound of it. “Move, please,” she asked once more, and Arya stepped back. Gendry looked forward 

“Arya, come here,” a voice asked behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her mother, a scowl written into her features. 

“I’ll wait right here for you,” she said, looking back to Gendry, trying to reach for him. In the second where they could, he reached back towards her, fingers lingering on hers before it faded from her skin. 

“Arry, just go with your mum,” he said, and turned to go with the rest of the security officers. 

“Arya, come here right now,” her mother warned, and Arya swallowed, watching the door slam and everything had changed for them. Turning to her mother, it was clear that whatever was going to happen, Arya was in for an earful. Dread set in. 

They were taken to her mother’s office, and as she sat on the side of the desk, Arya craved her father’s presence. Did he even want to look at her after thought pictures? He had to have seen them if her mother had. He was the king, everyone told the king every small detail of people’s lives, especially his children. Gods, the look her mother was giving her in that moment made Arya truly want to be sick. 

Sansa sat next to Arya, holding onto her hand with all the force a supportive sister could muster in her palm. It didn’t lessen Arya’s nerves. 

“You’ve made a spectacle of our entire family,” Catelyn huffed, folding her arms after she turned her computer screen towards the sisters. “on the day of your brother’s wedding.” Of course the day half of the pictures were taken would rattle her mother - taking away from the future king was _awful_ according to her mother. 

Arya shouldn’t have thought that, they were both frustrated, and her mum was just taking aim at what was already gaining the family attention. 

“I’m not going to be judged for the company I keep,” Arya said, trying to sound defiant, but all she could think of was the look on Gendry’s face. He looked so broken. 

“He is not company! He is here doing a job, and you two decided to jeopardise that for some flirtatious behaviour,” Catelyn snapped, her hand going to her forehead. 

“Mum, I don’t think you can call it that. I think it’s more than -” 

Sighing, she looked to her eldest daughter. “Sansa, you’re in an equal amount of trouble for keeping this from me.” 

Sansa stood up to her mother, something she rarely did. Walking to the desk, Sansa planted her hands on the hardwood and stared down their mum. “Why should I tell you when Arya loves someone? It’s not like she ever did that to me. It’s a personal matter, and it was hers to figure out on her _own_! I’m not going to make her feel like falling in love is against royal protocol.” 

“Falling in love with her bodyguard is against protocol.” 

“ _Whose_? Did you make a law that Arya falling in love with whoever she wanted to was wrong?” Sansa snarled, anger billowing high. “Mum, I know you don’t mean to, but Arya isn’t a lady. She’s never been that way, and controlling her is like controlling the wind. You’re causing more harm to her than you are mending anything. If you made it -” 

“Sansa, it’s ok.” Arya interrupted, her voice so weak, she was afraid it wasn’t going to come out. 

Wither hands in her lap, she picked at her skin, wishing that her heart would stop hammering away in her ribcage, but it was too late for that. Swallowing down fear, looking up at her mother and wondering if she could still love her after all of this. She hoped she would. 

“Mum, all I did was fall in love. Sure, I didn't mean for it to happen, and I sure as hell wish it wasn't my bodyguard, but only because of his job. If he wasn't my bodyguard and we had met differently, I can tell you right fucking now, I’d feel exactly the same. And he’s still doing his job of protecting me. It's not like it's stopped him, to be honest he's somehow even better than before! 

He's my best friend. And my boyfriend. And the love of my life. Neither of us planned it and we sure as hell fought it, because we were scared. Not of being in love, I have never been scared of being in love. But we know the risks, Mum. I'm not an idiot and neither is. I'm scared of your reactions and the public's reactions, but mostly I'm scared of losing him and it being my family's fault.”

“Arya,” she started before she sighed, and relaxed back into her chair, annoyance running over her. “I wish you would have told me. So I could prepare myself for the mess that has come.” 

Arya scowled, watching as her mum reached over her desk, planning something out - that she was going to repair this somehow. “Was I always going to be a mess in your eyes?” 

Catelyn sighed again. “That wasn’t what I meant.” 

“I know what you meant. But you never have seen me as perfect. You’ve always seen me as something you should fix,” Arya shot back. 

“Arya, please don’t twist my words.” 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Arya waited, to which Catelyn opened her mouth to defend herself. It closed quickly and Arya scoffed. “You can’t though, because what do you do every day? You check to see if I’m the perfect little princess, scowling when I’m not. I’m just Princess Arya, the girl that fights, the girl that runs away from home and talks with the people. I’m just me.” 

“I know you are,” Catelyn said, reaching out over her desk for Arya’s hand. 

She ignored it. “Then why does it feel like you hate me?” 

“Arya, I -” 

“I need to find Gendry,” Arya said, getting up and walking out of her mother’s office. The feeling in her chest was a hollow one, spite winning over her in a moment of pain. 

Racing back to the bodyguard offices, she waited for only a few minutes before Gendry came out, he looked worse than when he went in, but in complexion only - a different man than she had ever known. 

“There you are!” Arya said, going to his side, but Gendry walked as if she wasn’t even there. She pursed her lips and followed after him. 

“Arya, go back to your parents, I need to get out of here,” Gendry said, tugging on his tie until it came loose and he took it off, shoving it into his pocket and trying to find something in his other pockets. 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” Arya asked, walking beside him as he finally got his phone. 

“Take a fucking guess what the problem is,” he snapped, looking at the screen of his phone, stopping as he read something. He went pale and Arya felt her heart spasm. Gods, this wasn’t happening. She was downright scared. Arya was never scared. 

“We can figure this out. It’s going to be hard at first, but I promise it’ll be worth it,” Arya tried, but as Gendry looked to her, she knew something was so far gone, that the rage that had built within him was going to tear him apart. Or worse. 

“You don’t get it, Arya! You are constantly in the spotlight, and now so am I, and my mum too. We aren’t like you, we don’t have people protecting us from danger! We’re going to get harassed, and there’s nothing we can do.” 

“Gendry, we’ll work it out, just -” 

“No! I’m not doing this,” he shouted, and Arya held her breath, binding his fists. 

“Doing what?” 

Gendry looked over her face, scattering for the words. “I’m not...We’re not…” 

“Don’t.” She stopped him, heart pounding in her chest. “I know what you’re doing and think about this,” she warned him.

“I have. I have to think about my family.”

“I could be your family!” she shouted back, moving into his space, trying to hold his hands. He didn’t truly know what she was asking of him. 

Gendry stepped back, pulling away. “Don’t make me choose between you and my mum, Arya,” he said, voice soft. 

“I’m not!” she begged. It was the last one that would come out of her lips. 

The look in his eyes told her enough, the words that would tear them apart were close, but she knew he’d never say them. He’d break her heart more easily than that. 

“I'm sorry, Arya.” Gendry walked away, slow and hurt, no pride or dignity in the way he moved. 

“Coward!” she yelled. Gendry stopped for a moment before he continued off. Arya didn’t mean it. She was just scared. And she knew, that whenever he walked away from her, her heart was going to break. 

Above it all, Arya never thought she’d die of a broken heart, but now it seemed all the more real. 

Gendry broke her heart, and she’d never be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [talisa's wedding dress](https://www.eliesaab.com/file/image/aGFuZGxlcj1maWxsJndpZHRoPTE0NDAmaGVpZ2h0PTIxNjA=/07_1533660239.jpg)  
> tho i'm not sure how many of you are interested in it after....that....yeahhhhhhh sorry....but you also signed up for this when you knew there were 23 chapters and this is only chapter 11


	12. the way you break my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ON A FUCKING ROLL THIS MONTH! i might try to get chapter 13 out by the end of the year, but we'll see! it's been a crazy month, and I hope everyone has been enjoying an almost regular update from me. but hey! we're half way!!!!!  
> just a heads up, there's blood mentioned in this chapter? don't know if that's an issue for people, but a heads up in case!

A numb ache held her in bed for what felt like days. In actuality, it had been a week - the news broke, and the same day it was all over. A public announcement was made, and the wording made Arya furious. She was angry and depressed, and she knew it was all because of her family, what Gendry thought of her family. Everything about Arya’s life made her angry. 

_ With the public now in full awareness, the Princess Arya would like to say the following. Her relationship with her Bodyguard was one that held little significance, and as of today, the relationship has ended. This has no direct result from being acknowledged by the public in any way, but it is requested that both parties have their privacy respected, especially those to which have no protection or affiliation with the royal family directly.  _

What bullshit. She knew how her family had to play it, but it was still bullshit, and the public knew it too. Like Arya would ever say such fucking shit in her life, but it was done and said - the stance taken that Arya was a flippant princess, ready for a fling and to discard them whenever possible. That was who she used to be, it wasn’t her anymore. She wanted love, she wanted security, she wanted more than just being royal - Arya wanted to be happy with her life. And the fact that it was blown apart by one person, she felt sick. 

That trust was something she shouldn’t give outside of her family. Part of her thought it wasn’t right to do that, to build walls was against who she was. But walls could have kept her safe, they would have prevented her heart from breaking like it did that day. She was alone once more, unhappy with her life, and rebellion built back into her veins. She’d be running again, and it made her scared that it would always be like this, to be the princess that everyone thought was a scandal. That she wasn’t worth more than the snickering and gossip at events. 

Arya thought she may have deserved it. 

And so, her sanctuary became her bed - the safety of her blanket weighing down her floating body, one too numb to feel herself grounded. It provided the warmth she missed from Gendry’s arms, and gave her every bit of comfort she needed. Until it didn’t. She’d toss and turn at night, feeling herself cry into her pillow like some lovesick fool that couldn’t get it through her head that she deserved better. 

But Arya didn’t want better, she wanted Gendry. She needed him like air, to be with him like he were the clothes on her back. It didn’t matter how much she was in pain, or how desperately her heart wanted relief from seeing his face in her mind, it just meant that had Gendry. He’d break her and heal her in the end, and she hated him for it.

By week’s end, she hadn’t been online, she hadn’t read the texts from her family, she had barely left the radius of her bed - it felt hopeless to move when she could possibly break. Mostly, she hated the fact that she could be broken like this. It was all she could think about when the pain was overwhelming; how did Arya Stark of Winterfell become a fallen woman, too stupid to leave her broken heart behind her and get on with life.

A knock came to her door, and Arya barely budged as the door crept open. When the person came into her room, she sprung up and felt herself become alive with an emotion she hadn’t quite deciphered. Gendry had a tray in his hands, food filling plates and glasses with water and juice inside. 

Gendry looked slightly different than the last time she’d seen him. He wasn’t cleanly shaven like he usually was, stubble that was patchy and unkept, his clothes were casual as though they were going into town, but it wasn’t coordinated in any way. Arya was happy he looked like a mess - served him right, he needed to be the disaster he was before they had met, she thought.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting up in her bed to fold her arms and scowl at him.  

“I heard from Hot-pie that you aren’t eating. I came with food,” he cleared his throat, moving further into her room, but he was cautious with each step he took. 

Arya gripped into her arms, finding her courage in the pain. It reminded her why she shouldn’t have been happy to see him, that getting him back was a fruitless endeavour. They would never be again. It was so short, yet the happiest time of her life. It wasn’t the case anymore. “Get out. It’s clear that you didn’t love me, you were just using me.” 

Gendry huffed, setting down the tray in front of her. “Arya, I do love you, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s over.” 

Arya felt the spike in rage, and all forms of restraint that she held were lost in a moment. Shooting up from the bed, she stormed to him, kicking the tray along the way, the dishes and glasses all shattering around. 

“You love me, but only on the condition that we remained secret!? That I was some fucked up prize you won by fucking royalty!” she yelled, agony in her words. She hadn’t even stopped herself when Gendry toppled over on the carpet, fear backing him to a corner, then having him scrambling on the ground. When he landed, his head hit straight against the chest of drawers that sat close by. Still, all she wanted to do was hold him by the collar and yell until her voice was hoarse. She saw the blood that had formed on forehead or one that seeped through his shirt. She didn’t care in that moment. 

“I never said that,” Gendry said, trying to stand back up, but he faltered, his eyes blinking 

“You either loved me without conditions, or with them. We both know which way your heart leaned.” She yelled over him as he laid sprawled out on the floor. He stared up at her, his chest deflating as her words tore into him. Truth spilled and the damage was done. Arya backed away, moving across the glass and getting back into her bed. 

In a second, Brienne came shooting into the room, scowling at the mess around. “What the hell is going on in -” she began to shout before she turned to see Gendry on the floor, and bleeding, and gasped softly.  “Gendry, you’re - oh my god, we have to get you to a hospital,” she said, examining him. Brienne managed to get Gendry to his feet, and he held onto the spot on his head, still being held upright by his superior. 

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” He stared at Arya, the line of blood dropping down the side of his temple. He finally looked like she felt - battered, bruised, hurt. 

“Gendry, if I can see a gaping would in your face, I’m going to send you to the hospital. You could have a concussion for all I know!” 

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing before he was escorted away. The room was left in silence, a chaotic mess of pain and heartache, all strewn across the space where their love had once filled it. 

Arya fell back to her bed, her stomach aching from the lack of food, and her heart straining from her day. 

From the time that Gendry and Brienne had left, Arya watching them from the window as they drove away, it was a total of five minutes before Sansa came storming into Arya’s room, throwing open the doors like she were an all powerful queen like she so desperately deserved. Yet, Arya hated that passion, for the moment anyhow, because it meant that Arya had to acknowledge whatever her sister had to say at some point, because she was always right. 

“Arya, what did you do?” Sansa shouted. Arya had found herself in bed again, curling her blankets around her and watching as Sansa stepped over the mess that had now befallen Arya’s room. 

“I don’t know. I just reacted,” Arya huffed, trying to settle back into her bed with a slumber that could drown out heartache. It was a far reach, Arya knew, but she could only pray to all the Gods,  all and new, for some form of relief. She suspected one built on rage and war helped her when Gendry had stepped into the room. 

“That’s not a reaction,” Sansa said, standing in front of Arya’s bed, arms folded and scowling at Arya like it had always been a face that Sansa had when she looked at her. Arya jumped up from her bed, throwing a pillow from the plentiful bunch that hid on her bed, hitting Sansa in a heavy lump.  

“Don’t say I’m overreacting! I’m allowed to feel like this!” Arya snapped. 

“I never said you aren’t, but you sent the guy to the hospital!” Sansa replied, voice just as raised, and just as angry.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him like that, but he deserved it,” Arya defended and the look of shock on Sansa’s face made Arya’s stomach drop. Why did she have to look at Arya like that? Like she had done something so wrong? Arya knew what she had done, and she stood by it. 

“Who have you become if you think making another human being bleed is worth the pain they caused you?” 

Arya breathed in a ragged breath, snarling back at Sansa. “You’re judging me now?” 

“For this?  _ Yeah _ . Arya, he broke up with you, it hurts like hell, but he’s still someone you love. And you just...you  _ hurt him _ . Physically hurt him,” she reiterated, “no amount of emotional pain you’re feeling will ever amount to physically harming another person,” she scolded, and the anger in her was something that only their mother could have infused in them. It made Arya feel sick, like she were still a child in need of a talking to.

“Just leave,” Arya spat, tossing over in bed. 

“Get back to me when you’re not maiming people for your own pain relief,” she huffed, moving out of Arya’s room in a split second, slamming the door behind her and making Arya jump in surprise.

As sun set, Arya’s stomach turning and grumbling for something that wasn’t just air, she moved from her bed. She went to her window, expecting to see someone there, but no one stood under her window smiling at her and trying to disguise the fact they were hiding a cigarette behind their back. Glancing back to her room, she was met with the mess she created, knowing her fault may not have laid with their relationship, but the aftermath sure as hell did. 

She started with her bed, making it to no longer be a mess. Covering over the love that had once creased its way into the lining linen, smoothing out her pain, and making sure only the memory would fade over time. Then, she picked up each shard of glass and porcelain. Pushing chairs to where they needed to be, fixing up her room to be her own and not the painful loss of someone that could only respond with little empathy to her. 

Then, she changed, moving out of her room and walked to her sister’s door, walking past the threshold and standing awkwardly at the brink of her room.

“So,” Arya spoke and Sansa, who was on her bed, smiling into her phone, turned and tossed it aside, a scowl replacing the job she was once feeling. 

“You going to throw something at me now?” 

“No.” Arysa cleared her throat, moving towards her sister, admitting something that wanted to get trapped at the back of her throat. “I just need a hug,” she said, voice quiet and her bottom little trembling. Why did she feel so scared. 

Sansa softened, opening her arms up and beckong Arya in. 

“Come here.” Arya barely needed the answer from her sister and she was already colliding down onto her, holding Sansa with all the effort her arms would allow. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just -” 

Arya stuttered before Sansa hugged her closer, kissing at her crown. “Then we won’t talk. It’s okay,” she murmured. Arya hadn’t felt herself cry like that since her family were dying in that car wreck. It didn’t matter, it felt like she had lost something just as important as family. She’d lost a piece of herself that was found within him - joy that only he could bring out, and it was forced out of her hands without even a second word. 

“Why couldn’t he want me as his family?” Arya cried, admitting the insecurity that had taken root when he left her that day. The way his words dug into her and tore about her sanity - why couldn’t he want her? Want her to be more? Want her to protect him for once? She could have done it with little effort, and yet, he took off like their time together meant nothing. She just needed to cry. 

Sansa held Arya tighter, as though the words were so painful to hear that it made sense suddenly why Arya was acting like a fool. 

By the time that her tears that stopped, Sansa had gotten food to the room, and Arya was able to eat all the things she had avoided, picking at things to get the smallest amount until she was able to stomach more.

For most of the night, they talked about everything else. They talked about Sansa’s man - who was now becoming two possible men as Sansa spoke about it being just as risky as Arya’s love for Gendry. Arya concluded that it could still possibly be Theon, but Sandor was just as easy a target. He hung around her, fawned over her even. Could Sansa find him a possibility? She did have a very kind heart, one that could overlook that man’s many, many flaws. He wasn’t the best to be around, kind of a bastard if Arya thought about it. But Sansa laughed with him, made him laugh sometimes too. It made sense. 

Then, they talked about Robb, and how Jon was very close to proposing to Ygritte at the reception. It wasn’t until midway through their conversation that Sansa remembered that Jon did in fact propose to Ygritte, the night of the reception, when they ready to leave each other. They were hidden away and Jon actually got down on one knee. Jon was going to tell everyone until Arya’s news broke and kind of spoiled the whole surprise. It wasn’t until the next night that Jon told the family. Arya hadn’t been there. 

In all, Arya spent the night with Sansa, forgetting the pain for a few hours, laughing with her sister and best friend, full of love that she had been so separated from. Arya thought she didn’t deserve it if Gendry was so willing to leave. But it had always surrounded her, willing to give at a breaths notice. She loved being loved, and having someone that meant the world to her, knowing they could never leave. 

Night came, Arya went back to bed, and didn’t dread the sleep that came. Although they were dreams that were filled with Gendry, they didn’t feel painful, just sharp memories that would fade into nothing with time. Waking, she didn’t cry and beg for the day to end again, she just woke and ordered breakfast to her room, eating alone and undisturbed as she forgot the dreams that had held her during the night. It wasn’t painful. Just a dream that meant something to her. 

It didn’t take long for her morning to be disturbed. Arya was busy flicking through her phone, blocking most things that brought up the week old scandal, and knowing it would be out of the news eventually. It still hurt to see a name that shouldn’t have been treated like that. A knock had come at her door, taking Arya’s attention from her phone.

“Arya,” a soft voice said at her door. Arya rolled in her bed, seeing her mother closing the door behind her. Arya rolled back over, cuddling her blankets closer to her chest. 

“What is it, mum?” she grumbled. Her mother was slow to make her way to her, but she eventually sat down, the weight shifting as she sat at Arya’s feet. Catelyn’s hand rested on one of Arya’s legs hidden beneath her sheets. 

“I want to apologise for how I handled everything.” 

“You were right,” Arya sighed, allowing her mum to see her. Catelyn shifted higher, sitting close enough to comfortably cup Arya’s cheek. It was a touch that she had found wonderful when Gendry had done it, but now, it was a comfort she welcomed by her mother. She had sorrowful eyes. 

“Darling,” she whispered, “your happiness is all I ever truly want. I know I’m hard on you, but I don’t do it on purpose. I want everything in your life to be perfect, and I must have put that pressure on you. What I truly wish is that you are loved and cared for, that you know you have a purpose other than being a princess. It’s why I wanted to push you in the direction of your charity causes. I thought it would drive you to be less reckless and more passionate.” 

“It did.” 

“But that boy…” she started, before she closed her eyes. “But because of  _ Gendry _ , I lost sight of what made you happy. I should have been more supportive, helped you work it all out,” she tried and Arya shook her head. 

“It wouldn’t have done anything.” She sat up, looking at her mum and holding onto her hand. “Thank you, for apologising. You didn’t need to, but thank you,” she nodded. Catelyn leaned forward, kissing Arya’s forehead. 

“I love you, my little wolf pup,” she said, holding Arya close and for the first time in a long time, she felt the love that her mother could only give.

For once, it felt good to be Arya and Catelyn, mother and daughter, held in an embrace that could convey words that neither of them could quite say. It was what they needed, to free burdened hearts, and act on the things that held back two stubborns fools. 

For the rest of the day, Arya went around the palace, being followed by Pod, who didn’t say anything to her. Usually he’d quip that she moved too fast or that she needed to be more careful, or his newest adventure with a girl or guy he’d seen out in town. Instead, she was met with silence. He was either afraid of her, or thinking of a new pick up line to use on her, which wouldn’t work. 

She went to the library, looking through books that could help her build her foundation to a better extent. There were a few things she took to her bedroom, not before she visited Bran and see the new improvements to the palace to make the home more accessible to their brother. He enjoyed going down the long ramp down the main staircase, as he let the breaks go and he went down cheering. It was fun seeing her brother act like an idiot and almost enjoy the fact that he was in a wheelchair. Only a boy, she supposed. 

Laying in bed, she felt like the books were sending her to sleep, her head resting in her bed, flicking between pages that seemed to spill the same words over and over again, never continuing on from the last page. She kept reading, begging the universe to claw out her eyes, but instead, she was visited by the one person she had desperately wanted to see. 

“Dad!” Arya yelled, bounding out of her bed and racing to collide with her dad. He chuckled, holding her tight in his arms. He didn’t have his cane that day, but the slight stumble he had made Arya jump out of his arms and inspect him for any worse injuries. He held her cheek and smiled with his whole face. It made her heart race in joy. 

“Arya, sweetheart,” he said, walking them over to the small sitting area that Arya rarely used in her room. Ned sat across from her, relaxing into the chair and Arya held onto the armrests. The look of serious discussion made it clear that the scandal was finally coming to bite her in the ass. Ned sighed before he spoke. “Don’t feel bad for falling in love, and having your heart broken. It hurts, but it happens. I doubt he meant to hurt you to the depths that he has.” Arya swallowed, looking down at her lap and wishing that this wasn’t happening to her.  “I looked in on him myself after I heard about you,” he said, and Arya shot her attention back to him.

“Why did you do that?” 

“Did you know that on that morning alone, his mother was harassed by people on the street? That paparazzi came to her place of work and tried to get information from her about Gendry to publish in the paper? They haven’t opened the pub since the article came out.” 

“What?” she replied, a breath of surprise escaping her before she could trap it behind her teeth. All he did was nod to her surprise. 

“I heard that he said something to you, something about choosing between you and his family.” 

Arya swallowed again. “He did.” 

“We do the things to protect those we love. Sometimes, that hurts the people we love too. I have it on good authority to tell you, that boy loves you more deeply than either of you realise. But his mother has been, and always will be, his family. She’s all he’s ever known. He did what he thought was best to protect the closest person in his life.” 

“Why did he have to hurt me?” Arya asked, trying not to sound so pained, but it had already come out.

“He had no way of knowing what it would truly do. To either of you,” he said, and Arya furrowed her brow.

“Either of us? Can’t you see I’m a mess?” Arya scoffed, falling back into the chair and sliding down to sink into it.

Ned scoffed to that. “Sweetheart, have you even notice that he hasn’t been your bodyguard for the whole week?” 

“What? I saw him just the other day.” 

“He hasn’t been working. He came to get his things, I guess he visited you shortly before you sent him to the hospital.” 

“He didn’t get fired, did he?” Arya bit at her lip, trying to restrain herself after her outburst, holding back the fact that she did still care. Her father always saw right through her.

“No. But I gave him leave. He wasn’t in good shape.” Ned confessed. How didn’t Arya not notice that Gendry wasn’t himself? Did she no longer care or was she just so filled with self pity that she didn’t care. “I love you, Arya, and I will not take sides because you know how biased I am,” he laughed and Arya did too, “but I don’t think you were the only person broken that day.” 

Arya chewed on her lip before she looked up to her father, sympathy in his eyes. “Can you take me somewhere?” she asked. To that, he gave one single nod. 

All she wanted to do was forget it all happened, that her life hadn’t crumbled down around her because of him. But it happened, it was a part of her, a part of them and who they would be walking forward. They couldn’t erase the pain they had caused each other, nor would it do any good to glaze over broken pieces that were so clearly their razor edge anger. 

Ned waited in the car as Arya moved up the flight of stairs she had once found comforting. A secret hide away when she gripped into the banister, racing ahead of him as he laughed behind her, fingers at her waist as he got his keys from his back pocket. Now, she waited for a response from a knock that lacked any true power. 

A few moments later, Gendry answered the door. Her father was right, he looked like a mess, no shave for a week, his clothes stained with whatever meal he may have had two days before. He didn’t care how he looked. Now, he had two added bandaged to to the bunch, covering up stitches that she inflicted upon him. “Arya, what are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I came to say sorry,” she said with a shaky breath. 

“Did you want to come in?” he asked, stepping aside. 

“I can’t stay long,” she told him, moving past him. 

“I should -” 

“I shouldn’t have thrown that at you. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she interrupted, raising her chin, trying to seem like she strong. He didn’t believe her, she could tell. But it didn’t matter, he would always see her. 

“It’s okay, I deserved it,” he tried to play off, but Arya’s heart ached at the notion that he believed it. 

“You didn’t. Even though you hurt me, it didn’t mean I could physically hurt you like that. So, I’m sorry,” she apologised. 

“It’s alright, Ary - Your Highness,” he stuttered, choking on his words. Arya felt herself stiffen - even with a broken heart, she didn’t want him calling her that. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was. But the shattered mess that they were told them enough - nothing will ever get them back to the way they once were. 

“I know this hasn’t been easy. For either of us, but I shouldn’t have acted like a spoiled child about it. It wasn’t right of me,” she said, ducking her head down, her lungs feeling tight. “But you have to know…” she paused, heart in her throat. “You were the only person I’ve ever loved, and the first person to break my heart too.” 

“Your Hi -” 

Arya interrupted again, needing to get her words out. She didn’t need him to change her mind. She was going to get through this like an adult. “It was always going to hurt more with this. With you. I saw myself spending the rest of my life with you. But that isn’t going to happen. It’ll be okay, but I’ll just be a little broken until it is -” 

“Arya, please, just let me -” 

“I hope to see you back at work soon. The palace isn’t the same without you.” She confessed it. She hadn’t considered it until she was left alone with her thoughts in the ride over. Gendry had made the palace feel like home, not a place she needed to escape from everyday. It had become more fun escaping with Gendry than just doing it to live her life. He drove her to be better, want for better things in her life. “I should go. I’ve been here long enough for people to notice. It won’t happen again. I hope your mum is well,” Arya said, nodding once before she gestured for the door. Gendry opened it up again, not saying a word as she left, closing the door after she left, a soft thud of an undecided man. 

On the street, Arya didn’t want to get in the car. She wanted to run back up the staircase and yell at him for not fighting. Yell for him to change his mind and say she was worth it, that she’d always be worth all the pain in the end. Instead, she could only stare up at a place that she held with fond memories. 

Looking at his apartment, Arya knew one thing for sure; even if her heart would mend from that moment, she’d always love Gendry, and seeing him would keep that love alive. Even if it were selfish to keep him there, to keep something alive that was so willing to die, she had hope that one day it could blossom into something else in the future. Whatever ugly, mangled thing that might be. It would be theirs, and Arya would hold it close to her heart. 

Gendry looked down, waving to her. 

She waved back. 

And wondered if she’d always feel a little hollow saying goodbye to him. 


	13. call it what it is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 motherfucking chapters to go! this will probably be my last update for the year, so i thank everyone who read in 2019, and I can't wait for 2020. I'm also incredibly close to get 1000 kudos and i cannot thank everyone enough for the love and support for this fic. it's been such a journey and it's insane that it's gotten so many people that like it. thank you for continuing to read it, and coming back with each update. (this chapter has only had minor edits made, so if there are mistakes....my bad)

The hospital cleared him, and he was sent home with little more than a nod from Brienne. The entire team was pissed at him - it was the first rule they had; you could be friends with the royals, but nothing more could come of it. Gendry loved his job at the palace, he loved his work with the Starks, and defending them was a drive he never knew he had outside of the army. The risk he took with Arya was careless, but when it was happening, he couldn’t help himself. He was in love. 

He still was. 

But when his mum called him, crying and yelling at him about this and that, he felt a part of him break. Of all people, his mother didn’t deserve to be like that. Gendry had heard Tailya crying too often when he was a child - it was torture to know that this time, he was the cause of it all. So he broke his own heart to save his mother the pain of further embarrassment. It wasn’t right, and he should have thought of something else, but he could only save one woman in his life the pain of his love. 

At home, he sat awake, his orders from the doctor, watching endless, mind numbing television that did him nothing but want to fall asleep. Arya always made this trash seem interesting, her own personal take on the inside lives of the characters on screen. He fell in love with that. And he threw it away for nothing. 

Getting home the night he ended things, he got drunk. Like way too drunk to stand the next morning. Waking the next morning was definitely an eye opener on how he felt the night before. He had to pick up the mess he created. Then, a few days later, Arya created her first mess.  

Discharged, he sat at home, wondering what the hell was going to happen. It’d be a miracle if the palace kept him on. They probably thought he’d fuck up his work...again. They would never trust him in Arya’s proximity again, and never Sansa’s - though he knew what was going on with her. There were the boys, but Robb needed men that wouldn’t get distracted, and as for Bran and Rickon...well...they were odd ones to get along with. They were reckless on a level that was stupid rather than Arya’s rebellious. Stupid was hard to contain.

A knock came to his door after a few hours on his own, and he stumbled to the door. He wanted to grumble about he wanted to be left alone, but when the door swung open and guards he knew swarmed his apartment only to leave a few seconds later, he was left stunned. Especially when the King came rounding the corner and thanking the men that left. 

Gendry’s mouth hung open for a solid few seconds before the words formed. It was the largest lump he ever had at the back of his throat. “Your majesty! What are you doing here?” He exclaimed, swallowing back the panic that was building within his body. 

“Son, we need to talk,” The king said, clapping Gendry on the shoulder and walking past him. Ned walked like a man that was built ten times larger than most, a control over every room. He was certainly controlling the one Gendry was in. 

“Would you like a coffee?” Gendry asked, patting down his pockets as though he had something to offer. He felt like an idiot when the King turned around, a small smirk on his lips.

“A beer, if you have one.” To that, Gendry blinked, nodded and went to his fridge. He got one out of Ned, but when he looked back with a stern brow, Gendry got himself one too, joining Ned on the couch. “The queen is trying to keep me from alcohol since the wedding, said I was too reckless, but I think she’s keeping me away from liquor after the accident.” 

“Here you go, sir,” Gendry said, handing off the beer. Cracking the top off the bottle, Ned took a sip and smiled to it.

“So,” he sighed, looking over to Gendry, “tell me what happened.” 

Gendry choked. “Excuse me?” 

“With Arya? Why did it end?” 

“I don’t think we should be talking about this behind her back.” He laughed it off, but the King scowled at that answer. Gendry swallowed back the lump in his throat. He may be a kind man, but that look he gave Gendry made him feel small, like the man in front of him was his father, asking him to be honest. 

“That’s for me to deal with,” Ned grumbled, keeping his eyes locked with Gendry’s, making damn well sure that Gendry knew that he wanted an answer that night. 

Gendry sighed, fingers combing through his hair before he rested his elbows on his knees. “I got a call from my mum that morning. She had to close the shop, because people were harassing her about me. I didn’t know what she meant and I got the article sent to me. I knew what the public was doing. They would have dug through my family, through what my mum went through with the prick that left her when he found out she was pregnant. I didn’t want her going through that. My only answer at the time was to leave Arya. I didn’t want to. I was a fucking idiot to do it, but...my mum is everything to me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

The truth spilled out, like it had been waiting all his life for a chance to explain himself, to tell someone what his truest fears were. That the man that fathered him was to blame for most of the hardship in the Waters’ family line. 

The look that washed over Ned’s face made Gendry’s stomach twist, like he knew something he shouldn’t. “Do you know who your father is? Or is it -” 

“I know who he is. So do you,” Gendry said, and the King confirmed with a nod, “but I don’t need that for my mum. When he left her, she was so hurt, and whenever news comes out, we shut it off. Ever wonder why it’s a stag’s head and not just a stag?” he scoffed. 

“Kill the bastard that hurt her.” Ned smirked, taking a sip of his beer before he sighed, looking back at Gendry. He wondered if when the King looked at him, he saw the man he knew. “He may be my oldest friend, but it doesn’t mean it justifies the things he’s done in his past,” he confirmed. 

“Will you -” 

“I’ll make sure it stays out of the papers, don’t worry,” he said, and Gendry let out a sigh of relief, leaning back into his chair, a weight off his shoulders. Then, Ned continued, a strong change in his voice, deep and threatening, “but son, you’re an idiot. Get back together with my daughter. You’ve proven to me what true happiness is in that girl, and you  _ broke _ her. Fix it, or I’ll make your life a living nightmare, regardless of Robert’s family name getting dragged into this,” he said, standing and making Gendry get up too. Out of respect, perhaps? But he followed whatever Ned asked him to. 

“Yes sir,” he said, almost wanting to salute, but thought he’d be mocked for it. “Are you sure you want me to get -” 

“You’re in love with her, you prick! Will you always be in love with her?” he snapped, and Gendry gave a knowing nod. 

“Yes.” 

“Then fucking tell her that,” he said, throwing his hands to the sky. “Gods, you kids are the worst, most infuriating morons I’ve ever had to be around. Making a drama out of nothing. If this happens again, you come to me first and I’ll put a stop to whatever mess is happening. That’s all you had to do, not break the love of your life’s heart,” he said, drinking the remains of his beer in one huge tilt of his neck. Gendry watched the bottle drain in a few seconds, and the King burped briefly afterwards, not even excusing himself. He almost seemed proud, probably because it meant he was on his way back to normalcy. 

“Thank you for being so frank,” Gendry smiled, to which, Ned put his hand on Gendry’s shoulder, giving a smile back. 

“If you were my boy, I’d bloody well hit you, but as King, I’ve been told I have to stop doing that to people that aren’t my family,” he chuckled, and part of him wanted to be the son of the man in front of him. He wanted to mean something to the man, to make him proud and be everything he ever wanted from Gendry. He wanted to be the best he could. 

“I’ll try to get her back, sir,” he said, chewing on his lip before he added, “or at least make it better.” 

As the King sighed, he seemed to know the challenge that lay ahead of Gendry. Better was going to be the least he could achieve. “That’s all I want,” he said, and finally, left Gendry’s home. The door was closed and Ned left without even the smallest commotion from anyone nearby. Either the streets were cleared before he got there, or his secret service team was just that good that no one could even tell he was around. 

He watched the car roll away, and for the rest of the night, he knew what he needed to do; Gendry had to plan on how he needed to act, to be better. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and he had to think carefully on what to do, because it was Arya after all. Nothing came easy with her. It wasn’t like Gendry wasn’t up for the challenge, he just knew he couldn’t treat it like that. 

The next day, when Arya came to his door, he wasn’t sure what she’d say. He kind of expected her to get angry, start to yell and fume like she did the day before and sent him to the hospital. Instead, she was an Arya that had never truly stepped foot in front of him. He wanted to comfort her, tell her that everything she said and did wasn’t necessary, anything to put her at ease and not have her acting like she were to blame.

“I know this hasn’t been easy. For either of us, but I shouldn’t have acted like a spoiled child about it. It wasn’t right of me,” she said, ducking her head down, Gendry felt his hands tighten at his sides. Why did she have to look so small? Why was he the cause of it all? He hated that Arya wasn’t herself in that moment, that she looked like someone so insignificant compared to who she actually was. “But you have to know…” she paused, and Gendry swallowed, wishing that the words that came out would help the situation. “You were the only person I’ve ever loved, and the first person to break my heart too.” 

Gendry wanted to throw up. He wanted to collapse to his knees and beg for her to take it back, to not let herself have a broken heart because of him. “Your Hi -” 

“It was always going to hurt more with this. With you. I saw myself spending the rest of my life with you. But that isn’t going to happen. It’ll be okay, but I’ll just be a little broken until it is -” 

“Arya, please, just let me -” 

“I hope to see you back at work soon. The palace isn’t the same without you.” She said. And still the words beckoned at the back of his throat. 

_ Arya, please, just let me explain this, let me tell you what happened, and we can do what you wanted - we’ll work it out. We’ll figure it out together, and I won’t be the asshole that broke your heart. I’ll make everything better, just let me explain. _

But he couldn’t get it out. 

The princess that could have armies at her feet was a broken shell of who she once was, and he did it all to her. He broke the unbreakable, and even when men had wished to do the same thing, it meant the worst pain imaginable for him. Gendry was the only man that deserved to die, and when she spoke, her breath hiccuping at the back of her throat, he wished she had throttled him until he was in just as much pain as she was. To be broken down to the bare essentials of who he was, just like Arya. He deserved all the pain that she dished out. 

Instead, he got her apologising, wanting him back at the place where she lived, she wanted him  _ around _ . 

It wasn’t right, he felt like this was a punishment for her, not him. He was the one at fault for everything wrong in her life, and yet she wanted to keep him around. Watching as she left, much like her father the night before, instead she looked up to him, smiling before she got in the car and drove away. He wondered if watching him leave that day felt the same as watching her go. That there would always be a dull ache that remained as they parted from one another. If they both felt hollow without the other. 

But it was wrong to think like that. To hope. To wish. To pray for it. That she would feel the need to want him in return. He wanted it, more than air, he wanted for her to love him again, to continue to love him in spite of everything he had done to her. All Gendry wanted was to love her, and be loved just as much in return. 

Yet, he had to ask himself, how much did he love her in the first place? If he were so willing to desert her at the drop of a hat? Could she ever see that as anything other than a betrayal? How could she ever think he loved her to begin with? She made it clear the day he saw her that she thought he was just using her for sex. Which was the furthest thing from his mind when he started his relationship with her. 

In the end, Gendry knew that he never meant to fall in love with Arya. It happened in the blink of an eye, without warning or even the slightest inkling that it could come about. Love, like most things, came to him in a crashing moment of realisation, one in which he had no chance in stopping. Either the universe was playing a cruel game on him, or it had all been fated to go this way. He hoped there was a brighter future for them both. 

It took him a few more days at home, another check up with the doctor to see how he was doing, and he was cleared for work. Dressing in his suit, he went to the palace and walked through halls that were all too familiar, yet the stares were new. They were filled with judgment and scorn. He met with Brienne, who gave him the simplest orders: don’t interact with Arya for more than needed. One sentence was enough. That’s what he was told. But he knew them, he knew that, even though conversations somewhat became hard to maintain for both of them, it would flood into arguments and snide comments that would stew in their bellies for hours. They were lit fuses, ready to ignite whatever anger had been stored in them all this time. 

Walking back out, heading towards the stairs, he saw Sansa descending with Sandor behind her. Sansa stopped in front of him, Sandor on the other hand, barged past him. “Prick.” His voice was rough and mean, and Gendry knew it was also a comment that Sansa enjoyed from her slight chuckle at it. 

Gendry was left with the princess, and he gave her a bow, as he was meant to do when first greeting royalty. He was sure Sansa thought he was being an idiot, but it didn’t matter. He already won that prize a long time ago. “You’re going to have a shit night,” Sansa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and Sansa stepped in closer to him.

“Sorry. We can chat later, but we can’t tell Arya,” she said, and Gendry nodded back in response. “Also, just cause I haven’t said it yet,” Sansa said, her hands sliding onto his shoulders, then in an instant, his mind went blank with pain, as Sansa’s knee had collided with his groin, stunning him, knees hitting the floor. “Fuck you for hurting my sister,” she said, and he choked, nodding to her aggressive action.

“I deserved that,” he wheezed, trying to get his breath back, holding his crotch to ease the pain. Sansa moved down the stairs and went to Sandor’s side, walking to the kitchens with him. 

“Great shot, little bird. Just like I taught ya,” Sandor praised and Sansa beamed a smile back at him. Gendry coughed, getting back his barrings and moving up the palace steps.

It took him a few breaths and the slowest walk up the palace steps to get himself to a presentable state before he walked into Arya’s room. He gave a knock, but Arya rarely replied, so he went inside. 

Upon stepping foot inside, Gendry’s throat went dry. He’d seen Arya look elegant, he’d seen her look disheveled but still beautiful, he’d seen her naked and bare in front of him, but fuck, he’d never seen her look so sexy in his life. With a leather skirt that hugged at every curve of her hip, tracing lines that only his hands had touched in the past, accompanied by a black lace bralette, revealing just enough to remember where his teeth had pressed in. With thin stockings and a jacket to match her skirt, Gendry was rendered incompetant to do even the most basic of tasks to breathe. 

“Where are we going?” he said, voice cracking like a teenage boy. He cleared his throat as he tried to remember what he was doing. 

Arya bent, her ass on display like she were teasing at something. Well, she was teasing him.  _ Look at what you can no longer have. It’s free and ready to use, and you lost your chance.  _ “Out,” she said, getting her boots and sitting on the edge of her bed as she put them on, “can’t you tell?” she questioned playfully. It made his shoulders ache, the need to readjust himself in every way possible was becoming the most agonising task. 

Sansa was right. He was going to have a shit night.

“I don’t think you going out will give off the best impression, princess.” 

“You don’t get a say in that, do you?” she remarked, going into her bathroom. He could only assume she was fixing up the make up that looked way too out of character for her. But that was possibly the point of it. 

“As your bodyguard, I do,” he reminded. Then, Arya poked her head out, puckering her lips as she reapplied the lipstick that stained her lips. 

“As my boyfriend, you don’t.” She sarcastically smiled, and Gendry felt his chest tighten.

“Arya, I’m not trying to be difficult but -” 

“Then don’t be difficult,” she gave a dry suggestion, then stopped in front of him, a scowl replacing her very smug grin, “and don’t call me my name,” she demanded. Gendry shut his mouth. The detail he had missed, one that he knowingly tried to remedy when he went in that day. It slipped. It shouldn’t have.

Arya moved out of the room quickly, skipping her way out of her room and cheerily behaving exactly as she had done when he first started. 

“Your highness! Wait!” he shouted, following after her. It felt like the beginning, when he lost sight of her and panic set in, “shit, this is going to be a long night,” he swore, racing down the stairs and seeing her get into a car. He flagged it down before it was completely able to leave. Arya scowled at him in the rear view mirror. He now felt dread take him. 

This would be his life, a job where he was condemned every day, sneered at for acting on an impulse he should have pushed aside. This was his ultimate punishment, welcomed back with open arms, and once in the hold, knives shoved in his back and he would never be able to complain - why should he? He was taken back after all the wrong he had caused. 

When they arrived, Gendry felt his shoulders sink as he looked at the building. The fucking Forge. Of course it was The Forge. Gendry wanted to put his head through the windscreen, because from his past experience in that club, it meant a great deal of foreplay that would end up going further in a bathroom stall. Arya was bolting out of the car, stripping out of her jacket and tossing it back in the car. Beric moved to the door outside, keeping watch. Gendry moved to his side when he jabbed Gendry right in the stomach. 

“What are you doing standing around out here? Gotta go in and protect the small pup,” he accosted, and Gendry groaned.

“I fucking hate this day,” he swore to himself. Moving inside, it was bodies pressing together, hands roaming to places they wouldn’t be in any normal situation - but it was hot, and people breathing down one’s neck was exactly what a person there wanted. Gendry waded through the swarms of people, being groped along the way, trying to find a wall where he could easily spy on Arya and keep her from harm. When he got there, he should have known the cruelty that he would be subjected to. 

As hands roamed, Arya smiled eagerly, hands gracing over her form and her own slipping beneath shirt collars, touching at skin that tempted at the edge of clothes. All the while, Gendry had to watch her, watch as her hips swayed, finding friction amongst the crowd, smiling that grew when people ducked their heads to her neck, lingering their mouths on her where once he was the only one to touch.

One guy came up to her, hands on her bare skin, just above her skirt and beneath the bralette that she very well could have slipped out of with how tightly the room was packed. Gendry was on edge, hid fight response was fuelling him in that moment, because all he wanted to do was shoot out across the room and punch the guy in the face - his hands on the princess when they shouldn’t have been. He couldn’t exactly judge anyone, he reminded himself, he’d done the exact same. 

Then, his hands went down, mouth directly next to her ear, whispering to her words that went deaf to the music around them. Whatever it was, it made Arya bite her lip, and the guy got eager, fingers inching down until they were trying to slip past the waistline of her skirt. Arya’s eyes sprung open, hands going to his to stop him. 

Lucky for her, jealousy had overtaken Gendry and he was already through the crowd and pulling the man from her. Taking hold of Arya’s bicep, he tugged her along. 

“Your Highness,” he said, dragging her out. Her hands tried to ungrip his hold on her, but he could do it - he had to get her out of there. He held her out the back door, pushing her out the back entrance and into the cold. 

“Get off me, Gendry!” she snarled and he finally released her. 

“You can’t do this out of spite,” he snapped back. Was he even really mad at her, or just the guy she was using? Either way, jealousy was moving its course, and he’d place blame wherever it laid. 

“You’d be amazed at what I’d do out of spite,” she replied with a scoff. A wisp of cold Northern air came through and shook Gendry. He wasn’t used to it, even after the year or so of being there. He suspected that it would be the same for Arya, if she weren’t half dressed. 

“This isn’t you, and you know it,” he replied, and Arya frowned at him. 

“Wow, really? You’re observant,” she scowled, rolling her eyes as she clutched tighter to her biceps, holding herself for warmth that was lost in the Winterfell night. Why he felt sorry for her, he hated it, because at the end of the day - all he knew was what Arya made him feel. In the depths of the cold, she always would provide warmth. Shaking off his jacket, he pulled it around Arya’s shoulders and stood back in a huff. Arya clutched it to her, but provided no surprise in his action. She just took it, as she should have. 

“Gods, you’re acting like a child, you know that?” he growled, hands going into his pockets. 

“Says the man that ran away when he got scared,” she snapped. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed. 

“Fuck you,” Arya snarled, turning from him, taking her place as a royal, her chin high and shoulders square. She wouldn’t stand for how she was being treated. Yet, there was a flicker in her eyes of pain - that she shouldn’t have said what she did, she shouldn’t be acting the way she had been. 

“Do you love me?” 

“Don’t ask me that,” she groaned. 

“I still love you, and this is what you’re doing,” he replied, and Arya looked back at him, shocked that he would eve say it. 

“I’m allowed to do what I like, regardless if I love you or not. You ended things too, remember? So why do you care?” 

“Because I do! Because I love you!” he shouted, unleashing the pain in his chest. He just needed to say it. Needed her to know that his heart hasn’t changed. He needed to...he wanted to better for her, and wanted her to know she was still loved. “Don't you still love me? What more is there?” 

“Of course I still love you, idiot! But you still broke my heart and my trust!” she snapped back, her cheeks going rosy because of the crisp night air.

“Then we can figure this out, we can work through this.” 

“I don't want to figure this out. I want to know you’re in this. I need to know you’re gonna fight for me.” Arya looked hurt, that breathing was becoming painful, or maybe it was just the same air they shared. 

“I am fighting for you!” Gendry roared. 

“You’re  _ begging _ for me, there’s a difference!” Arya yelled back, her eyes pleading for him to know the difference. 

“I have always fought for us, you just don’t -” 

“You ran! You ran when you told me you loved me, and you ran when things got hard. You want me back? You make damn well sure that I trust you enough not to leave again,” she said, shoving at his chest. “Prove me wrong!”

“I’ve literally bled for you!” he snarled back, stepping into her space. Arya’s next breath came out shaken, the wind catching it and whafting it away like smoke. 

“I just want you to want me! Without fear, without concern or a care! I want you to fight to  _ want me _ !” 

“Arya, please, I'm trying,” he said, voice soft, and Arya whined, her hand going to her forehead. She seemed like she was ready to cry, and Gendry felt it too, the tension in his chest was becoming agonising. Arya seemed to be worse off in the situation. 

“I know. I need to know you understand that for me and my position, I can’t just give trust back. You taught me that.” Her words stung, and he stepped back, watching as she clutched her arms tighter around herself. “I’m in the spotlight and at massive risk everyday. Trusting people, even someone who I don’t interact with regularly, is trusting that they won’t kill me or my family. It’s not that I could lose my title. It’s that I or my family could be killed and risk the lives and livelihoods of our people.” There were truths and lies in her words, but it wasn’t the time or place to argue with her - she was close to tears. “I trusted you, and even though I know you’d never physically hurt me or my family, I can’t just go back to normal. I have too much to lose.”

“So do I, that’s why I left,” he admitted. “I panicked. My mum has been through so much to get me here and because I followed my heart, her life was being affected. I have to protect her, she’s the only thing I have unconditionally.” Arya chewed on her lip as Gendry stepped back into her space. It was so familiar there, a perfect encasing for who she was in that space, warm even in the freezing night air. “I saw the statement. I know your family had to post it but I can’t help but think...was any of it true? Did you really...was it really all for nothing?”

“Don’t ask me that. You’re not going to like the answer,” she lied. He could tell by the tear that slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away, looking off from him. 

A flash went off close by and they both shot their attention to the guy with the camera. “Princess! Is this a lovers spat!” he yelled, and Arya was ready to haul herself at him. 

“Fuck you!” 

“Your highness,” Gendry caught her quickly and she snapped her anger to him. He gave her a cautious raise of his brow, “allow me, please.” Gendry looked down at her, a warning look. Her stubbornness could have won out, and he very well could have pulled her away from the situation, dragging her away and causing even more of a scene than necessary. Instead, she huffed, giving him a nod of approval. She wasn’t happy about it, but she allowed it nevertheless. 

“Hey, buddy, gimme the camera,” Gendry said, walking to the guy. He had been frozen solid by the realisation that a threat was coming, and it made Gendry confident with his coming actions. As he got there, the paparrazi gave over the camera, and Gendry looked it over before throwing it hard against the wall beside him. The paparrazi went to his destroyed camera, looking up at Gendry.

For a moment, Gendry felt sorry, but knowing what guys like him usually did for money, his pity went away. Kneeling beside him, Gendry gave a sarcastic smile. “Go fuck yourself. The princess has been through enough. She gets to speak to me or you however she likes. So on her behalf, you can cordially, go fuck yourself right up the ass, and please, for everyone’s sake, shut the fuck up, would ya?” he said, and the guy simply nodded, leaving his broken camera on the ground, staggering to his feet, ready to race off. “Send a bill to the palace and we’ll replace it for you,” he said, and Arya came to his side. 

“You’re too nice,” she whispered, “I would have broken his arm.” Gendry believed that. 

“Which is why I had to handle it. You know you would have broken more than just an arm, princess,” he said, looking down at her, and she scoffed out a laugh, something she probably didn’t want to do, but did so against her will. 

“We need to get back to the palace before you freeze,” Gendry cleared his throat, gesturing out to the main street. Arya furrowed her brow, going to head back to the club, only for his arm to shoot out and stop her. Arya folded her arms over her chest, snarling back at him.

“I’m a Northern Princess, Gendry, I don’t freeze.” 

“Normally, I’m sure. But you’re currently in the worst outfit imaginable. Let’s go,” he demanded, and Arya rolled her eyes. 

“You ruin all the fun,” she said, moving around the corner.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, voice far quieter than it had been before. They were back on the street and heading to the car. As they got there, Beric moved from the door, scoffing at Gendry as they moved to the car doors. 

“Have fun back there?” Beric chuckled. Gendry sucked in a breath, lunging to him and binding his fists in tight to Beric’s jacket. 

“Shut the fuck up, Beric. Nothing happened,” Gendry barked, holding on tight to Beric. 

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes. Gendry slammed Beric’s back to the door of the car, making Arya jump out and look over the top of the car. 

“That’s the fucking princess, you’re talking about. She isn’t just any woman. I lost sight of that, but I haven’t anymore. Treat her with more respect,” he said, throwing Beric against the car again and nodding up to Arya. 

“Sorry, your highness,” Beric apologised with a grumble in his voice. 

“It’s okay, Beric. I didn’t take anything by it.” Arya moved back into the car, and they were off, no other word or arguments as they got to the palace. 

Gendry walked up the palace stairs and to Arya’s room. Arya walked in, exchanging Gendry’s jacket for a throw blanket on the top of her bed. Gendry looked around her room, noticing that her furniture that changed its position, something he hadn’t picked up on the first time he was in there that day - that most of her room felt different then what it once was. That it was no longer one he knew to be...theirs. 

With his jacket over his shoulders again, Gendry gave to nod to Arya as goodbye. “Goodnight, your Highness.” 

“Gendry,” Arya said, her voice weak but urging him to stay. He stood still, waiting for Arya to speak. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. When you fell, I was hurting and angry and I just -” 

“ _ Acted _ . I know how you felt. When I broke up with you that night,” he stopped himself, unsure if he should say it. In the end, he looked at Arya’s face and knew he could never lie to her again. “I got home and trashed my apartment. I broke a bunch of windows and the frame of my bed is kind of resting on three legs currently.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

He shrugged. Truth was all he had to gain back trust. “Cause I was an idiot. I broke up with the only woman I’d ever love.” 

“But being with me, meant hurting the only person that had ever been there for you before me,” Arya reiterated what he had told her.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back at his feet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Me too,” he said, raising his chin before giving a soft bow. “Your Highness,” he cleared his throat, wondering if the words would come out. “I’m sorry for how I acted tonight. It isn’t my place anymore to get in your way. I wish you all the happiness. I promise I won’t get in the way of that anymore,” he said, needing to clear his throat once more. It would be torture to do it, but he truly just wanted her to be happy again. He turned on his heels, getting ready to leave her room. 

“You were my happiness,” she whispered, but he heard it, and it felt like her full fist reached into his chest and squeezed.  _ Were _ . It was clear, even if he had the chance to win her back, to get back into her good books and mend the wounds he had formed, she’d never give it back. The trust he had built from the very start was shattered beyond repair - a piece always missing from the heart they once shared. 

Gendry kept walking and hoped to god that when he got back to his apartment, he still had alcohol hidden away somewhere, because he was sure he needed to end this day drunk. 

 

*~*~*

 

“You were my happiness,” she whispered, and for a moment he stopped before he left the room. Arya choked on her small sob, chewing on her lip before she said something he’d never hear. “You still are.” 


	14. I’ll Make It Up To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY 2020! I’m so excited for angst to be over....but today is not that chapter. i can’t handle it anymore, why are you guys still reading this, it’s torture. ok. anyway. have fun! (little edited, sorry, will edit if mistakes are missed)  
> ALMOST FORGOT! CFOIS HAS A [PLAYLIST ON SPOTIFY!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6oJfs4VORWbBITaA05FtUA) Feel free to leave a comment with a song you feel fits, and songs should be added each week to go with the fic. there's hints to future chapters in some of those songs as well!

In the days after, Gendry felt less motivated to win back something he shouldn’t have considered his in the first place. One, she was a princess, who the hell was he to think he had a chance with her, and two, she was a person - what right did he have to claim her as his own, as part of himself? He needed to think - to stop losing sense because he was an idiot that lost everything in one night. 

Yet, every time he saw Arya, he had hope. He believed there was a chance for his heart to mend what had been broken so easily in the past. He had snapped them in half, but the pieces were still scattered around them. 

With a torn heart, he got to work every day, wondering if he’d leave in hope or heartache. Most days, it was the combination of the two, fighting against one another to win over his heart. And more importantly, his liver, drinking alcohol like it were air, because what else did he have to look forward to at the end of the day. He never went to work drunk, it would be too risky, and although it hurt to be around her without the same emotions as they once had, it was better to be sober than drunk off his ass. 

In the meantime, Gendry was being the best bodyguard he could - he made sure that Arya was secure in all locations, and made sure she wasn’t putting herself at risk. She’d get annoyed once in a while, but let it slide fairly quickly.

It was strange though, just like her promise, Sansa and Gendry spoke when they could. It was being discussed that Gendry and Sandor would swap roles for a short while, with trial days to occur in order to see if it was a better image in the public eye. Both Arya and Sansa stayed indoors for these days. Gendry wasn’t entirely sure if it were planned, but he was thankful, because all the time he got to spend with Sansa, the more they got on and talked.

She was a very kind, warm and welcoming sort of person, willing to hear multiple sides instead of just the one. And yes, she was still as bitter as her sister on the whole break up thing, but he didn’t blame her. It was cruel what he did and how he did it. 

Gendry also found out two very simple things - the first was that Gendry had indeed won the bet with Arya, because Sansa’s boyfriend wasn’t who she thought, and the second was that Sansa wanted Arya and Gendry back together. 

Her father, it turned out, was a chatter box and talked to Sansa about them, about what they talked about that night. Sansa was criminally underestimated by her family, in Gendry’s opinion, because the amount of information that flowed through her was something to be rivaled by foreign countries with intelligence agencies. It wouldn’t surprise him if Sansa knew more about the secret workings of the Northern forces than she let on. As she sipped her tea, the twinkle in her eye told Gendry all he needed to know; Sansa was a woman to fear. 

“So, I know a fair amount about my sister, so I can tell you, all attempts to get her back are going to be difficult to accomplish.” Sansa picked at a plate of food that had been essentially demolished from their time sitting in her room. Gendry had seen Arya eat before - which was sickening to say the least, but when Sansa did it, it was down right frightening how fucking skinny she was. It was as though she inhaled an entire meal, probably passing through her just the same. Gendry felt like he needed to go to the gym just watching the meal disappear into her stomach. 

“I really don’t understand why you’re helping me,” he said, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. Sansa shrugged loosely before reclining back into her chair and playing with the ends of her hair. 

“Because when she talked about you, she was in love. The kind of love I see in my older brothers. I want the same thing for her, and we’ve all had it tough, so it’s only fair that you work it out,” she said, a soft sigh in her words as though it warmed her to speak of it. Then, she pouted. “Plus, I need Sandor back on my detail,” she said, and Gendry smirked. 

“Ominous, but I rarely question anything to do with him anymore because he scares the shit out of me,” Gendry admitted, to which Sansa beamed back a smile. 

“He also scares the shit out of everyone else. So, it works in my favour that he is the softest around me,” she confined with a grin that told him enough - a soft gian for only her was a special thing to keep around a princess that wanted secrets to be hidden. 

“Well aren’t you lucky,” Gendry chuckled. 

“Luckier than you,” Sansa scoffed, leaning forward, “you really fucked up. I don’t know how you’re going to get through this.”

Gendry put his coffee down before throwing himself back into his chair, sliding down as he felt a surge of self pity. “I know. But I can’t very well just ask her to get back together with me. Pathetic, especially considering that it won’t build trust back,” he explained, running his hands over his face. “I don’t know if I should even try.” He thought he whispered it, kept it so secret that no one would hear. But of course, Sansa, queen of secrets, threw a pillow at his words. 

“You can’t just give up,” she snapped, the pillow hitting him again. 

“Sansa, it’s better than dragging this out and hurting us more in the long run.” 

“You’re going to let her go because you’re scared she’ll reject you!” Sansa had some truth in her words. 

A lot of things about his relationship with Arya scared him. How did she love him in spite of everything she knew? How could someone royal love him? What if someone were to discover who he was, use it to bring him to a position he never asked for. Gendry wasn’t special. Maybe being a bastard made him feel like he wasn’t, but it still made him wonder at every turn if he were good enough to keep around. 

For what he knew of himself, he knew why he was feeling all of this all so suddenly; he broke them up - a fond respect that had been built was shattered, and however perfect it was in their little bubble, it wasn’t enough to keep the world from coming in. Losing security in such a split second, a security that was built entirely by heart, was a hard thing to recover. 

“I’m not going to break her heart all over again because I want her back! I could never do that to her again.” 

“Gendry, you have to try before you break it all forever,” Sansa tried, but Gendry’s heart had already wavered, how was he meant to stop it from beating the way it did. More than anything, he wanted to stay with Arya - but what was truly fair? To badger her into loving him again, or to drag out a break up that should have ended it weeks before hand. 

“What else can I do? Tell me! I’d die for that girl a thousand times over to see if it’d work, but that isn’t how this is going to happen,” he groaned. 

“I don’t know. You really screwed up,” Sansa said, chewing on her lip. 

“Yeah. I know that too,” Gendry grumbled, leaning forward, head in hands. For a moment, he thought he was alone, until a hand snaked up his shoulder, patting him lightly. 

“She will always love you, even if you think you will always be unlovable. I believe you’ll find your way back to safety soon.”

“Safety?” he questioned. 

“Where do you feel safest?” 

Gendry pictured it, the hand on his cheek as Arya smiled up at him.  _ Home _ . Her arms. 

“There.” She confirmed with a smile and a nod, and Gendry’s heart broke again. 

He wouldn’t love anyone the way he loved Arya. 

As another week went by, Gendry’s place in the palace still hanging in the air, Arya was called in by her mother. She had staggered out of her room, hair still sticking up in odd places as she yawned. Gendry gave her the coffee he got her every morning, walking beside her slowly, guiding her around her home. The walk Arya took was uncomfortable, as though she had only just learnt how to walk that morning.

“Are you hung over right now?” he asked, staring straight ahead. When Arya groaned, she leaned on him, head kept propped up on his shoulder, legs lazily dragging her along with him. 

“Sansa wanted to watch the new season RuPaul, and...well,” she sighed, looking up at him. 

“I’m almost glad I didn’t get saddled with the night shift,” Gendry chuckled. To that, Arya jabbed him in the ribs. 

“Stop lying, you would have loved every second,” she scoffed. 

“You’re going to be two episodes ahead of me, don’t need spoilers.” To that, Arya laughed. She hadn’t laughed a lot since they’d broken up. He liked making her laugh, in his own way. It made him feel wanted by her. That there was still a chance. 

He wished, though, that his stomach wouldn’t turn when he felt that. Guilt, it seemed, still plagued him like a disease, breaking down the confident parts of him, the ones that didn’t care about rank or the future, just happiness in one moment to the next. 

Getting rid of the last remaining parts of her coffee, Arya gave Gendry back the mug and they walked into the Queen’s office. It was a very lavish office, with books lining the walls, a parallel war between the Queen’s interests on one side, and the other was duty. They were overflowing, each side balanced with the other. It fit the Queen, Gendry assumed. Unlike most of the Stark family, the Queen was quite secretive, she kept herself the picture perfect royal; stern, regal, and superior to all except the gods - old and new. 

“Arya,” the Queen started, the door opening behind them as the King walked in. Both parents kissed at Arya’s crown before they eventually took their seats. Gendry stayed near the door, watching Arya shift awkwardly in front of her parents, both sitting opposite her behind the desk. They kept their power, outnumbering her. The Queen suddenly looked up to him, and Gendry stiffened. “I’m sorry Gendry that you have to be here for this, but I do need to speak with Arya on an important matter,” she explained. Gendry’s frowned, watching the Queen. The words made him curious. 

“It is alright, Your Majesty, I’m used to following her around,” he explained.

The Queen cleared her throat, looking away from him, as though she of all people were uncomfortable. “Ah, see, it’s more about the topic of conversation.” 

“What’s this about?” Arya asked. 

“We’re setting you up on blind dates,” The King blurted, and Gendry suspected if Arya was drinking, she would have spat it across the room. 

“Ex-excuse me?” she stuttered, her hands gripping into the edge of the chair. Gendry felt his heart clench. There was a reason this was awkward. At least Gendry knew the Queen had a heart - or at least she expressed human emotions that range into uncomfortable, awkward situations. 

“To ease the transition period of you two...near each other again, we’re pursuing some dates that you can go on to steer the conversation away from you all together, Gendry,” she said, looking up to Gendry. His hands behind his back, clutched tight to one another, holding himself 

“That…” he stopped himself as he shifted his weight between the balls of his feet, “that uh, sounds reasonable, your Majesty,” he gave a nod.

“Mum, this isn’t exactly fair to either me or Gendry,” Arya scoffed. 

Gendry cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room to him. “You Highness, your Majesty, please disregard my feelings on this matter. Whatever will be best for the royal family, I am on board with.” To that, Arya looked like she wanted to punch him - or gut him. 

“See, Arya.” The Queen smiled, though it faded when she looked at him - a wave of guilt washing over her. Gendry swallowed. “We’ll arrange the dates, as well as some public outings to give you a chance to get to know some of these Lords and Ladies,” she explained. 

Arya jolted forward. “Wow, wait, I’m being set up with Ladies? Mum, you know how I feel about noblewomen, they’re always so -” 

“One is Elia Sand,” the King interrupted, and raised his brow. 

“Okay, yeah that’s fine,” Arya muttered, settling back in her chair, folding her arms, “and the other one?” 

“Myrcella,” The Queen said next, and Arya groaned. 

“Baratheon?! Are you kidding me?!” she exclaimed. Gendry stood to the side, awkwardly trying to go unnoticed. He wanted to be like a fly on the wall, as he was always trained to do. But in that moment, he felt like he was sticking out like a ugliest statue that ever graced the halls of such a place. 

The Queen leaned forward, her hands coming together as she spoke. “She’s shown great interest in -” 

“Nope! She hates my guts, ever since I threw mud in her face when we were five,” Arya argued, reclining back into her chair, pulling away as far as she could from her mother and her demands. But, the scowl that Catelyn Stark wore better than anyone, said otherwise. 

“It’s not up for discussion. You don’t have to actually date her, just one outing and we’ll call it from there,” she said, and with one wave, that was the end. Arya trudged off, and Gendry had to follow. 

Outside the door, Arya groaned, hands in her hair like she wanted to the pull at her scalp. She continued to groan as she stumbled to the kitchen. There, she made herself a coffee and sat at one of the kitchen counters. Gendry sat opposite her, like he used to. It wasn’t until he was seated that he realised he probably shouldn’t have. But Arya didn’t seem to notice, or at least she didn’t care. 

After Arya had downed her newest cup of coffee, making herself a second and her third of the morning, Gendry got the courage he needed and spoke. 

“You complained about Myrcella, but from what I remember at Robb’s wedding, she was definitely staring at you,”  he mentioned. Before Arya could raise the mug to her lips, she stopped and glared at him.

“Shut up,” she said, drinking her newest cup, and tearing herself away, as though a thought came to her and she couldn’t wait to yell about her frustrations. “I have nothing in common with her. Only thing we’d actually find fun together is probably sex,” she explained, going back and drinking as much as her coffee as she could with an irritated look on her face.

“Please don’t say that anyone else,” Gendry said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay, but don’t think about it in your spare time,” Arya teased. 

“Trust me, I won’t,” he laughed. 

“Well, trust isn’t a word I’d associate with you anymore,” she smirked to herself before her expression fell, “sorry. Cheap shot.” 

“It’s fine,” he lied. It hurt to hear her say it. He knew she would have done so before the break up, but it was like a rusted knife went into his gut, tearing at his insides as she drew it out. It wasn’t fair to feel guilty, but in the end, heartache was always a blade that wounded more than just the intended person.

It took a week for the two royal women to meet. Gendry was there around their reintroduction to each other. Myrcella gave a sweet smile and giggled at Arya’s jokes, and that was all he saw. From their meeting in the palace, Gendry and Sandor swapped their roles. 

To pass the time, Sansa kept Gendry off the internet - she made him go around the whole palace twice to try and find her phone, which happened to be in her pocket the whole time. Then, she made him feel extremely uncomfortable by making him sit next to her on her bed. She was lounging around and he sat straight legged on her bed as she talked. 

After about half an hour of this, waiting for her to tell him to move - as she requested him to stay put - she suddenly kicked at his thigh. He frowned as she sat up, looking at him at the foot of the bed. 

“I will bet you twenty quid that Arya is being forced to go shopping right now,” she smirked, teasing her sister that wasn’t even there. 

“You’re saying that like you don’t wish you were her right now,” Gendry scoffed. Sansa narrowed her eyes at him, clicking her tongue against her teeth. 

“I feel as though it’s some kind of jab about me being hyper feminine compared to my sister, but you’re right,” she said, as though she wasn’t anticipating being read like she just was. 

There was a silence that hovered around them, even as Sansa smiled and went back to her phone - Gendry knew there was more that he didn’t know, that he very well could have. Sansa wasn’t much different than Arya; always willing to be a friend if given the chance. “What would you get?” he asked. 

Sansa looked up at him, frowning at him. “Shopping?” 

“Sure,” he shrugged. 

“Are you just making small talk or do you actually want to know?” she asked, a cautious look on her brow. 

“You seem fairly interesting, I want to get to know you, Sansa,” he said, honesty in his words. 

Sansa’s eyes went wide. “Fairy interesting?” Gendry shrugged again. 

“Look, I’m in love with your sister, she kind of sets a bar,” he smiled and Sansa laughed. 

“Fair,” she shrugged back, “have you seen those ridiculous denim high heels?” she asked, not even able to keep a straight face. Gendru stared in shock before the words slipped out of his mouth.  

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he howled out a laugh, holding tight to his stomach as every laugh ripped into his side, unable to hold it in. Sansa laughed hard too, kicking at his thigh again as she tried to explain. It took them a few minutes to regain their breaths to finally get the explanation. 

“I want to wear them just once to scare the shit out of Arya. it’s why I buy half the shit I wear. Just to see that girl’s reaction to horrible fashion,” she explained, falling back into her bed, giggling as she thought on it longer. Gendry scoffed out a laugh before nudging Sansa’s leg. 

“You two love torturing each other,” he said, to that, she nodded. 

“It’s what sisters do.” Sansa chuckled. 

From what Gendry and Sansa found out later, that Gendry did in fact owe Sansa twenty quid, as shopping was all over the news, and it was definitely clear that Myrcella had a thing for Arya. Even if it was brief or some kind of want of flirtation, from all the photos that were out, it seemed that Myrcella seemed keen on Arya in her own way. 

Gendry didn’t ask how far it went. He didn’t want to know. 

Another outing was planned, a date over dinner that went as fine as the first - from the gossip that Arya gave after the fact, she and Myrcella talked about their families before they were stuck back into silence. They shared a long embrace at the end of the night which got picked up by every tabloid on the planet, and that was that. Myrcella still texted Arya, asking how she was doing but they had both agreed they were better off shit talking Joffrey than they were at ever being a couple. 

After that, it was on to the next. Again, another night in with Sansa with Sandor taking his place. And as always, he was left to know the next day what happened the day or night before. He had seen the small talks of it online, the Forge their place to meet, some sort of dancing that had people gasping. 

Elia Sand was a lady of the court, not of royal blood, but was known as a noble rebel. She and Arya had many similar qualities, both a little reckless but did so for their own freedom. It was worth commending. 

The next day, with Arya in a hungover state once more, Gendry walked behind her to the kitchen. When her phone buzzed, Gendry had no intention to look over her shoulder, though it was quite easy to do so. What he found was Arya looking at a text that Elia sent, of the two women in the bathroom at the Forge, pressed in a stall and their tongues down the other’s throat.

“I see things with Elia Sand went well,” Gendry scoffed over her shoulder. Arya jumped, scrolling through her phone as quickly as she could. Across her cheeks a pinkish hue brightened her face, and panic was clear as day in her body. 

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that to get seen,” she laughed, shoving her phone in her pocket. Gendry stopped. He had embarrassed her? Fuck. He never wanted to do that. “I’m sorry about that,” she tried. Gendry shook his head, hands bound tight behind his back. 

“Don’t be. It’s not my place,” he said, clearing his throat, the lump of guilt mixing with shame didn’t make any of this less uncomfortable. From her spot, she straightened out her shoulders before walking back towards him, a sway in her hips that was her old way of flirting with him. Gendry’s mouth went dry at just the action. She shouldn’t have been allowed to do that. 

“So, what are you going to do to match up to this?” she teased. With a hammering of his heart in his chest, he felt like he wanted to collapse. It felt unfair, as though he were finally taken down to the lowest he could - that she would break him down to the man he was supposed to be a year or so ago; to have him uncomfortable from the advances of a royal princess and ignore them. It could have been malice with her words, to tease and pull back at the last second, but as he looked at her, eyes eager for the reply she wanted - an example of how he’d win her over again, he sighed and felt his self pity wash away for a moment. 

“I don’t think many would be able to match up to a kiss like that,” he scoffed. 

Arya stepped to his side, to walk beside him again, slow and wanting to waste the time that way. “But?” They wandered the halls, no longer needing the coffee that would keep Arya awake. 

“Maybe, after these public dates are over with, you and I can go out boxing? Like we used to?” he asked, chewing on the inside of his lip. He knew Arya wasn’t mean or cruel, but all his heart screamed was that he was going to be let down like he had done to her. 

“I’d like that,” she replied, and for a second, he felt every hair on his body stand on end to see that smile, “we can go tomorrow, you know? It’s not like anyone would see it as out of the ordinary, it’s what we used to do,” she suggested, looking up at him with cautious optimism. 

“If you’re happy with that, then I’m ok with it,” he nodded. To that, Arya smiled, racing ahead a few feet before stopping near a potted plant to throw up in. Gendry stood beside her, holding back her hair and patting her back as she hunched over the pot. 

When she left, and out of earshot, Gendry called housekeeping personnel, and told them someone threw up in a potplant. He never gave a name and saved Arya some embarrassment. He did, however, tell Sansa about it, purely so he could talk to her about it in the coming days. 

Arya spoke about her night in the briefest terms. The two women didn’t want anything other than to have a little fun. They danced, they drank, they made out in a bathroom stall. That was it. Gendry tried to hold back a smile as she told him, but she noticed and smiled back. 

The next day came, both going out bright and early to the gym where barely anyone came. Arya was excited to work out with Gendry again, he knew that because she told him after every machine or the reps they needed to get. Finally getting back to the hand to hand stuff, Arya threw Gendry to the ground enough that it made his back ache. It took him a few tries to do it, but he managed to get Arya on her back, pinning her there before she eventually tapped out. 

Genrdy still had little word on who first trained Arya, but whoever did so made Arya one hell of a fighter to begin with. She was focused, knowing how to get out of basically every hold that he could think of, and was a master manipulator of her body, moving in such a fashion that blew his mind every time she squeezed herself out of a situation. 

Being thrown to the ground at around eight in the morning, Gendry wanted to call it a day, but before he could, he heard Arya squeak above him. Getting up onto his elbows quickly, he watched Arya bound towards a boy around Arya’s age. He was chubby around the edges, but in no way overweight, just a little cushion to him. Arya didn’t care about how sweaty she was when she jumped into his waiting arms. 

“Mycah!” she yelled, giggling as his face went into the crook of her neck and holding onto her for dear life. Gendry’s chest clenched tight, no longer feeling a beating heart. “Oh my gods! What’s it been?” she asked as he set her back on her feet. 

“Like ten years,” he replied, holding her face in is hands, “it’s so good to see you,” he laughed. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, smoothing her hair out on the edges, flicking it back into the sweat that lined her face. 

“Didn’t your mum tell you?” he asked. 

Arya stepped back from him. “You’re my date?!”

“Sure am!” he beamed. Gendry knew what it was now. Mycah Butcher. He wasn’t noble, but he was a childhood friend, his father once working in the kitchen before he eventually had to move. The two were fond companions, causing trouble when they shouldn’t, and overall, confiding in each other when no one else could see their reasoning. 

Gendry wasn’t expecting him that day. He didn’t plan for this gym session to be their only interaction - to make it only about the gym instead of their normal routine of working out and talking it out. It was easy for them to exhaust themselves so when truths flew into the air, they were guaranteed not to run off easily. Gendry stood, rolling his shoulders as he walked over to his gear. 

“Seven hells! You’ve made my day!” Arya beamed back at him. Packing things up, Gendry hitched up his bag onto his shoulder, taking out a cap and putting it on. He was more used to hiding his face in public than he ever had been in the past. It was odd how easy it had become to blend in when he wanted to. 

“Your highness,” Gendry said, making Arya turn back to him. “I think we can meet up later. You have Beric with you,” Gendry said pointing out the window to Beric standing by the car. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, waving Gendry off, “I can’t believe it’s you!” she said again to Mycah.

Out the door, Gendry looked to Beric, stepping over to him as he looked back into the gym, Arya seemingly overexcited by the person in front of her. Gendry liked being that person for her. It was a lost cause now, her attention constantly distracted - giving her the opportunity to know that she could move on, and easily. Gendry knew he couldn’t. 

“You good to look after her?” he asked. 

“Where are you going?” Beric grumbled. 

“To drink away the self pity I have over seeing  _ that _ ,” he said, pointing back inside, ready to go to the one place he felt the safest. 

“Hey, Waters, come here,” Beric called out. Walking back to him, Beric held onto Gendry’s shoulder, holding him in place. “I gave you a hard time the other week, and I’m sorry, it’s just -” 

Gendry interrupted. “Bodyguard 101. Don’t get attached.” 

“Is it hard with her doing this?” Beric asked, and Gendry gave out a sigh. Looking back at Beric, a man that didn’t really care about Gendry’s troubles, he found it easy to speak what he needed. 

“More than I’m letting on.” He admitted it without hesitating, and the look that Beric gave was that of pity. He let Gendry go with a tough slap to the shoulder. “Thanks,” Gendry replied, moving off and finding the same old pub he used to work at when he was a boy. Sweeping up after dark, cleaning tables in the morning when the night crowd didn’t disperse until dawn. 

The Stag’s Head. 

Opening the doors, closed to the public, Gendry walked up the bar, seeing the place almost spotless. It felt wrong, that there wasn’t something to do in order to get it ready for a lunch rush - which used to be the staple of their establishment. Now, it felt barren and unwanted. 

“Mum?” he called, putting his bag on the counter. He wondered if he could sneak a beer before his mum noticed. She would with the speed she rushed out the back doors to him. 

“Gendry! Sweetie,” she smiled, pulling him into her arms and pushing him onto a stool. From the determination in her, she was ready to make him food that he would say is his breakfast. 

“Hey,” he asked as she roamed around the bar area, “how’s everything?” 

“Business is picking up again since the princess has been dating,” she admitted, and Gendry sighed, pushing his hat off his head and putting it on the bar. “I’m sorry you see that,” his mother said, moving back to his space at the opposite side of the bar. 

“More than I’d like,” he sighed, resting his chin on the bar top. It smelled foul up close, but it had the same smell as it had for the last twenty years. 

“I didn’t -” his mother started before she lifted Gendry’s head from the bartop, “honey, I never wanted you to end things with her. I love Arya,” she beamed before she seemed to recognise her mistake, “Princess Arya,” she corrected. At least she corrected herself - Gendry failed to do that since he’d met her. 

“Mum,” he replied, closing his eyes and hoping he could make it through this conversation without feeling as depressed as he had all morning. “I know you didn’t ask me to, but I needed to do that. It was best,” he said, looking back at her. Tilting her head, Tailya sighed, hands firm on the bar as she scowled back at him. 

“Best for who?” she asked. Before he could give her an answer, one that he hadn’t thought of, he got a text. Reaching into his pocket, he saw the palace asking him back. 

“I just got a call, I have to go,” he sighed, leaning over the bar and kissing his mother’s cheek. Gathering up his things, he left the pub, ignoring the fact that he could have caught a lift with the rest of the team. Instead, he opted to walk back to the palace. It took him half the morning, but he got back, showering in the security quarters, and dressing in his suit. 

He had to wander around the palace before Arya made it back in the afternoon, still as happy as when he left her. Still, she went off to her room, her mother going inside to talk with her about the date, to which they took a fair while. As Gendry waited, his new friend bounded towards him, mockingly punching him in the stomach as she perked up. 

“How you doing? Did it go well?” 

“Which part? The gym part or where Mycah came to date Arya?” he asked back in a whisper. To that, Sansa’s face dropped. 

“Mycah Butcher? You’re kidding?” she exclaimed. 

“Nope. Seems like that’s who she was with all day,” he replied, and Sansa sighed.

“I’m sorry. Next time,” she said, patting his shoulder before skipping down the hall. 

After a few more minutes, the Queen came out of Arya’s room, smiling to herself. When she saw Gendry, she jumped, clearing her throat and handing him a pile of notes. 

“I expect this is greatly awkward for you,” she said, avoiding his eyes. 

“I don’t see how my feelings need to mean anything to your family anymore, your majesty,” Gendry said, focusing back across the hall, avoiding the gaze that the queen held on him. What shocked him however, was the hand that she placed on his elbow, making his attention fall back on the queen. 

“My boy, please don’t think you are lesser than we are because you are not royal or noble born. You have every right to rule over your own happiness,” she said, and Gendry felt himself stare in disbelief. The queen had never been the type to talk to him like that - like he were family, or someone worth caring for, “please read over these notes. I am sorry in advance,” she remarked, nodding before heading down the hall. 

Gendry looked over the notes as he knocked on Arya’s door. She called for him to come in, and as he opened the door, he stopped midday, stuck on a line that was written in. 

“I see you scheduled another outing with Mycah in two nights time,” Gendry said, putting his notes behind his back, walking in to see Arya’s room scattered with clothes, as though she were trying to find the right outfit for whatever she was planning on doing. 

“It’s just drinks. We decided we wanted to catch up,” Arya shrugged, going into her bathroom, but her smile made everything feel like what he did to get back to Arya was a hopeless endeavour. Did he really have to try anymore, or would it be a wasted effort to give himself to her all over again? Would she even want to after all these dates? 

He hated that he would now compare himself to others. He never used to. Arya would yell at him for doing it, he predicted. 

After Arya showered, she dressed in some lounging clothes and mainly stayed in her room. Sansa came for a visit at one stage, laughing at her for her vomit incident the other day. Arya threw a pillow at Gendry who laughed at the sisters. Sansa even said there was a stain on the carpet where the potplant couldn’t catch everything - Gendry knew it was a lie because he had checked. Arya didn’t, and buried her face into her bed. 

After Sansa left, turning her face away as though she were ignoring him - but he saw her smug grin - it was Arya and Gendry once more, their presence around each other left them in tension and silence. The silence seemed to fuel the tension, but neither broke it, in fear of starting a fire that neither of them could

“I think I should head out. Promise not to jump out the window?” Gendry laughed, his finger tugging down on the knot in his tie, turning to leave as Arya seemed to settle into her room. From behind him, he could hear her jostling around on her sheets. 

“Can I ask you something?” Arya said, and Gendry finished tugging off his tie. He let the loose fabric rest on his shoulders and stuck his hands in his pockets, turning back to her. Arya had stood at the end of her bed, and Gendry walked back to her. 

“Always,” he said, meaning it too. 

Arya rested her chin on her chest for a moment, fingers binding in to the edge of her jumper sleeve. Then, she looked up to him, eyes scared to know an answer that hadn’t even been questioned. “Have you stopped fighting for me because I’m not...opening up? That I’m making it too hard?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Am I hard to love? Is that why you’re pulling away and not giving us a ch-” 

“Arya, I told you,” he started, before the words got caught up in his chest. Could he even bring himself to lie. “Your happiness means more to me than anything else. I’m never going to get in the way of that again.” 

“What if -” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Gendry stepped into her space, his hand on her cheek. He thought she’d recoil, that she’d pull away, instead, she relaxed into his touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment as though to savour this time. When she opened her eyes, Gendry felt himself lean down, words only they could hear, “you deserve...you deserve someone that isn’t going to break your heart.” 

Arya gripped into his collar, his forehead resting against hers. “I don’t want anyone else,” she confessed, and that was when Gendry pulled away. It was slow, and scorching to do so. 

“I don’t want to let you go, but -” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she repeated. “Just..leave it as it is. Please don’t give up hope.” 

“I promise,” he said, not knowing if he would keep his words true, or if he had confessed a lie. All he knew was that when she held him, all he wanted to do was kiss her and ask her for forgiveness in every way he could, submit to her every whim just to see if she’d love him again. He would go down on his knees and beg, but would it ever mean anything to her? Gendry was unsure of anything these days, it would be foolish to even try. 

After that, Arya went out for drinks with Mycah, more photos and more articles revolving around Arya’s love life were in the papers. People speculator as to the real reason for the cycling dates, most were wrong, some were right, others were downright weird reasons. 

Then, one night came, an unexpected date came to town and wanted something for he and Arya that would give them a chance out of the spotlight. It was the first real effort that Arya had at a date thus far. Everything was very casual with the others - this was a lord trying to impress a princess. 

Arya wore a simple jumpsuit, a silk material bound in at her waist with a bright red belt. She looked stunning, but Gendry didn’t say anything. He just smiled and they drove to the restaurant that was arranged. They were told to wait outside. Gendry didn’t know much of the procedures for these sort of things - he was only on duty that night because Sandor had gone off with Sansa doing something that no one knew about. It drove Gendry mad, knowing he had to be apart of this in some way. 

“It’s the last one. It’ll be over before we know it,” Arya sighed, shifting back and forth between her heels. Gendry cleared his throat, shoulders deflating at the words. He always forgot this wasn’t going to go away, that they would be able to build themselves overtime - they would constantly be torn apart. Then, a hand smacked against his stomach, making him looking down at Arya who scowled at him, “you promised, remember?” 

“I know,” he replied, feigning a smile. He was probably as good to lying to Arya as she were to him. They were each other’s lie detector, finding the truth hidden behind layers of lies and pain. Part of him knew, that even with his promise, reality wouldn’t match up. He could promise her everything she’d ever wished for, but at the end of it all, he’d still be ushered away. Gendry was going to be pulled from her life without a second word. 

Gendry wanted to cling on, but after seeing how Arya was when he broke it off, he wondered if it wasn’t for the best - to never be in the woman’s life again, never be able to hurt her. It was hard for him to think of himself highly, even after understanding the royal family were like any other - something stood in the way of his happiness. 

In the back of his mind, he thought of someone who he had never met. Someone that had impacted his life without stepping foot in it. 

Maybe he was why. 

Arya sighed, her finger gracing over his hand. He unconsciously flinched, looking around for prying eyes. It was funny how things worked now; when he dated Arya, he didn’t care who saw, not that they were broken up, all he cared about was her appearance with him. “I do want to start over, but it’s hard to -” 

“Your highness, the car is pulling up,” Gendry said, putting his hands behind his back and stepping away from her. It felt like the right thing to do - the step away from her when matters like this were at hand. 

As the car rolled up, a young man walked out, pinned in a casual suit jacket and jeans combo, blond hair slightly astray, and he waved off the escorting security that tried to stop him running to Arya and Gendry. “I’m sorry I’m late!” he called just before he reached the two. Gendry looked to Arya - she showed no real interest in him, but she still smiled, like she had to out of oligation. 

Then he got closer, and Arya sucked in a breath. He reached out to her as he stopped in front of her. 

“Ned Dayne,” he introduced, his hand delicate to touch hers. When their hands came together, soft and tender, holding tight for a moment, a breath taken in between them both, before they finally let each other go, and they could breathe in sync. It made Gendry feel like he was invading on something he shouldn’t have been apart of in the first place.

“It’s great to meet you,” she smiled, her lip going between her teeth briefly and a soft chuckle slipped from her lips as she looked down at her heels. Gendry felt his mouth go dry and his hands clung to one another behind his back. He felt like he wanted to drag himself out of their the second the pair latched eyes. It wasn’t right for him to think like that though, he had no right to do that anymore. 

“Come in,” he asked her. Gendry followed after her as she went inside behind Ned. From the little Gendry had been debriefed about the Lord was this; he was kind, though he didn’t outwardly show any sort of distain for anyone, in recent past, he kept to himself as he studied english at university where he thrived. Everything else seemed like a mystery - he stayed inside, he kept to himself mostly, but was reclusive. Gendry suspected he was like Arya; the person in the family that seemed the most mysterious, but just wanted more for themselves out of their family name. 

In the restaurant, the staff waited patiently, bowing as Arya walked in before moving onto their next task. Arya held herself tighter, as though she felt claustrophobic of the open space. In her defense, it made Gendry’s skin crawl - too much open space meant more opportunity to get into contact with her. He had doubts those were her fears.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“I rented out the restaurant. I wanted to get to know you, and not have people listening in,” he said, a genuine and sweet looking smile appeared on his lips. 

“I’d like that,” Arya sighed, letting her arms loose. Gendry cleared his throat, drawing attention to him from the two. 

“Your Highness,” Gendry gave a nod to Arya before turning to Ned, “My Lord.” His goodbye without saying it. Why would he need to. It wasn’t his right. He found himself thinking that a lot. 

A right. A privilege. Something that was given to him but not freely taken. He had no right to be around Arya, but was given the opportunity. His only crime was loving her when no one gave him the right to. 

Arya stepped into him. “Where are you -” 

“I’ll be just outside. So you can have some more privacy, your highness,” Gendry said, and for a moment, he thought he saw doubt in her. As though she saw herself and what mistakes she may make - that in the presence of the man beside her, she’d find a happiness that once lay in Gendry. 

“Thank you,” she said, a sadness to her words that he wished would fade. In time, at least. 

“Yes, thank you,” Ned said, extending his hand. Gendry looked down and without thinking, took it. It was a kindness that he showed overall, Gendry didn’t want to give him a bad impression - especially if it meant something more for Arya. “I didn’t catch your name,” he asked, shaking Gendry’s hand. Nervous, Gendry cleared his throat, straightening out his shoulders.

“Gendry.” 

“Ah yes, I remember now. Gendry Waters,” he recalled as if he had known it from a distant memory. From the corner of his eye, he caught Arya looking at Gendry, as they both knew where he knew the name. “A pleasure,” he said, innocent as ever. 

“You too, my lord,” Gendry said, clearing his throat and leaving the pair. As Gendry got to the door, he stopped and look back. To see what was happening in his absence. Ned put his hand on the small of Arya’s back as he took them to the table of his choice and smiled to her like he had been falling in love with her from such a distance, and within his sight - there she was. 

Gendry understood, being in Arya’s gravity made everything seem brighter, as though she hung the stars and they left a shine over her entire being. It was as though the heavens had touched down on her and graced the earth with the simplest thing as her smile. 

As the pair sat opposite each other, they looked perfect together, like they were paired from some greater being. The old gods and the new formed them to be one and they fit - like they were waiting to fall back into place. And there they were, and Gendry was just the man on the sidelines, watching for his heart to break more than it had before. 

Arya giggled, like she did with him only a few months prior. She tucked hair behind her ear, lip caught between teeth as she listened to him talk. Although the words were lost to him, Gendry could make out that it was something worth keeping her attention in the first place. 

Gendry lit the cigarette, setting it between his teeth, and dragging the smoke in with the air of the night. He hoped it killed him, that the smoke would fill his lungs and choke him because it would be less painful than the broken heart that captivated him at present. 

As the smoke left him, mixing in with the cold night air that only the North could hold, Gendry felt like he were ready to be sick. It was as though bile was rising in his throat, but he didn’t get to physically retch it from his body. Instead, he was left to rest his hand to his head, wrist shaking as the sickness turned into a choked sob. 

He hadn’t felt like he had truly lost Arya until that night, where she smiled and laughed, acted like herself again with someone that could replace him. Replace Gendry so easily, it were like he never existed in the first place. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he said, and finally, the tears came out, his hand slipping down from his forehead to rest over his eyes. Hunched against the wall of the building, he hid away his shame - and the pain of the final blow of a lost love. 

She was gone, and there was nothing more Gendry could do but cry, out of sight and out of mind of everyone that once cared who he was. 

Once more, he was insignificant. Just like everyone wanted him to be. 


	15. What If I Never Get Over You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI ALL! So, the angst....it's been hard.....so.....sorry??? but keep reading, i swear it's worth it.   
> CFOIS HAS A [PLAYLIST ON SPOTIFY!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6oJfs4VORWbBITaA05FtUA) Feel free to leave a comment with a song you feel fits, and songs should be added each week to go with the fic.

The date went better than expected, as Gendry was sent back to the palace when Sansa got back, so the switch between Sandor and Gendry was made. At the palace, Gendry walked in with unsteady knees until he saw the princess on the stairs, sitting on her phone with a smile pinned to her lips. As she saw him, she perked, and Gendry shook his head, and Sansa came down the stairs quickly.

“It’s done.” 

“What?” Sansa asked, her face dropping. 

It felt like he was breathing in glass, his throat feeling ragged from the moments alone and the smoke that stained the taste of his mouth. “I can’t...I won’t ever get her back,” he admitted, holding back a strangled sob. He rested his hand over his eyes, shutting his jaw as tight as possible to keep himself together. His shoulders hunched as his body felt like he was crumbling down. 

“Gendry,” Sansa said, voice so quiet, it made him want to finally get on his knees. 

“I lost her and I screwed up, and I’m never going to get her back,” he said, voice breaking, unable to stay calm or restrained. 

“Hey! Hey, it’s okay,” Sansa said, her arms going over the top of his shoulders, making him curl his arms around her back, face going to her shoulder for comfort. He had never felt so broken down before. Arya hadn’t moved on, but she could - she had the ability to, and Gendry knew he couldn’t. He’d always want to be with her. “We’ll figure it out,” Sansa whispered, stroking over his head. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore, I can’t take this every day,” he replied, pulling away from her, swallowing back the sobs that threatened at the back of his throat. 

“Gendry, what you’re saying sounds like -” 

“I gotta quit.” 

Sansa’s eyes went wide and she shook her head wildly, confusion now written into her. “No! No you can’t do that, you know Arya isn’t going to feel safe without you,” Sansa said.

“You’ll find someone else! I’m just one guy that fucked around and fell in love. I can’t be in love with a princess my entire life, following her like a lost puppy,” Gendry pulled away, feeling wetness on his cheeks. He had began crying and didn’t even realise it. Wiping his face clear, he looked back at Sansa, shaking his head with his eyes straining to stay open - he feared if he closed his eyes for even a moment, he wouldn’t stop breaking down, that it would be all he ever did. “I can’t take being in love with someone who is going to fall in love with someone else every day,” he confessed.

“Gendry, just think about this,” Sansa tried to persuade him, “go home,” she whispered, moving past him, and as Gendry looked over his shoulder, he saw Arya. With that, he made his way out of the palace entrance, hearing the two sisters talk. 

“What was all that about?” Arya asked first. 

“It’s nothing,” Sansa replied. 

“He looked like he -” 

“Come on, tell me about your date!” Sansa beamed, and the sounds of footsteps echoed up the stairs. 

Gendry knew he should have done more - that he shouldn’t have pities himself as much as he did, that licking his own wounds wouldn’t do much more than drive her away. Arya had the possibility now - she had been given the opportunity to feel more. Gendry knew he should have done more - but he was so confused, how was he meant to win another person’s trust back? What opportunity was he allowed to take that on? He could have pushed the matter, to make himself out to be the hero she needed. 

But Arya needed someone that wasn’t going to doubt - to question who they were. She needed security, all he could provide her was the physical kind. Every time he thought of what he could offer her, he hated that he felt as though he weren’t enough, that he needed to be more than who he was. 

His head was clouded by self doubt, and with it came a destructive attitude, he supposed. Gendry had no idea how gaining a person’s trust back could work - and even though most of the time he saw Arya, he wanted to argue about it, it would just push her away. It was the last thing he wanted. It was just time - it was ease the pain of their break up, but it didn’t forgive until pain had taken its course.

At home, Gendry made his mind up. One day, if things felt right, he’d talk to Arya, he’d work it out - if his heart didn’t waver, that was. In the meantime, he’d wait it out, stay with the family that gave him a second chance at being a good man. He wondered if the pain of a forced heartbreak would always last - he guessed it would, even in the smallest of ways. 

Waking up the next morning, Gendry went straight into Brienne’s office. It took a while to see her, but eventually he stood opposite her, hands behind his back. He appeared to be put together, to be better than he felt. 

“Gendry, what can I do for you?” she asked, taking a seat and sifting through a wide assortment of documents strewn on her desk. 

“Move my detail or I’m resigning,” he said bluntly. Brienne stopped midway through turning a page. She looked up at him as though he had spat directly in her face. 

“What?” 

“Brienne,” he said, watching as she rose out of her chair again, “you know I shouldn’t be there. Take me off. Otherwise, I have to give my two weeks,” he said, shutting his mouth, but he knew the words that came out were forced. Hell, it’d be idiotic to think they weren’t forced. 

“Gendry, this isn’t something that’s going to happen overnight,” she replied, combing her hand through her hair. Gendry bound his hand over his enclosed fist, trying his hardest not to shout. 

“Then tell me your decision when it comes,” he said, clearing his throat and raising his chin. He found moving in his spot, even if it was just his head and neck eased the discomfort of his body. Everything felt like it was crashing down around him, but he could at least control if he was allowed to move. 

“Gendry,” she tried.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he let out in a harsher voice, closing his eyes as he realised his mistake. 

Brienne sighed, sitting down in a heavy movement, falling directly into her chair and reclining back. She looked back at him and shook her head. “I’ll talk with the queen.” 

“Thank you,” he nodded back, and she opened her mouth to say something, then it snapped shut. Brienne wasn’t one to give advice, mostly because she hated emotions as much as she hated the Lannisters. He understood that. 

Upon leaving, he was ambushed by the daily minotinity of the royal household - people running around getting the family ready for whatever meeting they had set up that day and what they needed in order to get them as fresh as daisies. To his surprise, a waltzing princess came from the kitchen, apple between her teeth. He cursed his luck - just got better and better. Gendry turned on his heels, moving to a corridor to make it upstairs where she needed to go in order to meet with the queen on political matters. If he could just go unnoticed...

“Hey!” Arya called, and Gendry swore under his breath, continuing to walk. 

“What’s up?” he called out behind him, hearing the footsteps race up. Gendry took a breath in as he felt Arya tug on the back of his arm, the two walking beside each other in the enclosing corridor. They were getting too close, and by everything within him, he had to fight the urge to confront her. He wanted to tell her what was going on, but it was hard sometimes. 

“I want to know what you’re going to do, about getting me back,” she asked, and maybe it was because he hadn’t prepared himself to see her, but the question irritated him - rubbed at a sore spot that he had been trying to cover up since she’d yelled at him. 

Stopping and turning to Arya, their bodies barely a foot apart from the old hallway. “Can I ask why do you make it sound like you’re a prize to be won?” he asked her, voice low and almost spiteful. He didn’t mean it to come out so harsh, but he had been so pent up; self doubt, self hatred, and wounds that festered at his heart - he was bound to lash out. 

“What?” she asked, staring back at him indignantly.

“Like I need to prove myself in order to obtain you like you’re something to win at the end of a game. This isn’t a game, Arya. I want you. I want you  _ back _ . Yeah, I fucked up, but I can’t take back what’s happened. How am I meant to prove that I’m worth trusting if it’s the hardest thing in the world to do?” he asked in a husking whisper. “I’ve been in agony because of what I did, and seeing you every day is torture because of it. I won’t blame you for it, but I’m not to blame either. I did what I felt was right,” he raised his voice, determined for his voice to finally be heard. He didn’t want to keep everything in anymore. Yet, in spite of his need of expression, it pained him more to do so. 

“Stop yelling at me,” she snapped, her back hitting the wall in a huff, arms crossed over her chest. Gendry groaned, raking his hands over his face before he spoke again. 

“I’m not yelling at you, Arya. I’m just trying to ask what the hell do you expect me to do? Tell me, because I’m not a mind reader and I’m sick of playing teenage fucking love affair,” he said, realising the attitude he’d held over the last few weeks were pathetic, and every single time he thought he could do anything, he acted like a child - a teenager - not able to talk about anything because it would make things easier. Gendry just wanted his love to be easy - as it once was. 

“I-I don’t know. Something! I want you to stop standing on the sidelines!” Arya yelled, voice echoing down the corridor. Gendry scoffed. 

“Am I meant to interrupt a date? Take a stand and say ‘Princess Arya is mine, hands off!’, is that what I’m meant to do?” he asked, looking back at her with the same incredulous look she’d given him. 

“No! But -” 

“But what? You can’t just ask for something like it’s going to happen in an instant! I’m a guy that’s in love with you, why can’t you see that it’s hard for me to measure up to all of this and the media that gets attached to you regardless of how you want it to,” he replied. 

“All I want is for you to want me like I want you,” she said back, her breath shaking as she sucked in her confession. 

Gendry threw his hands in the air. “ _ I want you _ ! I’ve always wanted you! From the moment I met you, that’s all I wanted. I can’t keep saying that. I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want you, I did it to protect myself and my family.” 

“I stand by what I said that day. You didn’t need to break us. I could be your family,” she said, her pursing her lips nervously. 

“I want that. As much as I want you with every fucking breath I breathe. But I just want to know what I’m meant to do, to prove that I’m still in this, that I want to be back in this,” he said, and as Arya stared back at him, words failing to form, he understood. Words couldn’t quite grasp what they wanted to say or do - as words couldn’t express what a feeling could give. They both wanted that feeling back. It had no name, as how could it truly encapsulate the way it felt to be bound to another and feel whole all in one simple name. In his ear, he could hear voices discussing the princess, Gendry being urged to go to Sansa’s room. “Fuck. I have to go. They want you with Sandor and Beric,” Gendry said, moving along the corridor and finding his way to the princess’s quarters. 

He knocked with no response, so he waited another beat before entering. Walking in was like seeing Arya’s room - messy, clothes thrown around as Sansa must have been scouring her entire closest for something. 

“So, voices travel,” Sansa called out, throwing a jacket out of her closest, it landing in Gendry’s arms. He had doubts that she even knew where he was, just good aim. 

“I fucking hate this place,” he whispered to which Sansa scoffed out a laugh. She moved from the closet with two jackets in front of her, shifting between the two. Gendry shrugged, pointing to a leather one that seemed to suit her outfit more. To that, Sansa threw the other to the side and slide the jacket over her shoulders.

“Did you really ask to be moved?” she said, going back to her bed, where shoes sat next to the foot of it.

“I had to try,” he said, dumping the clothes on a chair. Sansa looked up as she fiddled with the strap of her heel. 

“And the argument was…?” 

Gendry frown, looking at her as he folded his arms. “When you said voices travel, you meant -” 

“Voices travel,” she shrugged, standing and spinning in place once her heels were on. She raised her brow to him, a silent question in her expression: do I look fine? Gendry gave back a nod. “You really just...said all that huh?” she said, moving over to him to pat his shoulder. 

“Kill me. I’d feel much better.” He groaned. To that, Sansa laughed, hooking her arm with his and walking them out of her room.

That afternoon, Gendry took Sansa out for lunch and a meeting she had with a few different community leaders. She was very involved in foundations and efforts to help smaller communities that could benefit from a royal advocate. It made Gendry happy to know her - to understand that every action she gave was genuine. She was a great friend, even if they couldn’t publicly be that.

After that, he escorted the princess home and he went back to where he felt safest. Although he was wanted to wait outside the window of a princess - some form of romantic overture in that thought - instead, he ended up in a bar that was quite literally his home as a child. 

Undoing his tie, he sat at the bar, amongst a crowd that stared at his back like he wore another man’s face. He knew why; they were a different man in their eyes - the bodyguard that seduced a princess. He hoped one day that wouldn’t be the case, but he had doubts. Then, his mother walked in from the back and beamed at him. To that, the bar quietened down and went back to their business. It took his mother less than a second to figure out what was wrong. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“I’m trying to move my detail,” he admitted. Tailya’s eyes widened, and she suddenly became stern, folding her arms across her chest and gesturing to the back room. Gendry swallowed, moving off quickly to his mother’s demand. 

Upon sneaking into the back, his mother had followed and when face to face, her fist met his chest in a soft thud. 

“What happened?” she snapped, folding her arms again. 

Gendry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going to watch her fall in love with someone right under my nose.” 

“Then get back together with her,” she said with an exasperated shrug. 

“I can’t, and you know it! I’ll be putting you at risk and -”

“Gendry! Stop blaming me for this!” she yelled, and Gendry shook his head. 

“I’m not blaming you!” 

“Then stop using me as your excuse,” she said again, stepping into him and holding his cheeks in her hands. She had done it when he was small and she looked at him as she scrunched up her nose. Now, she looked up, cheeks plump and nose scrunching just the same as always. “I’m a big girl. If it comes out, then so be it, we’ll tell the world what a bastard that man was,” she smirked and Gendry laughed, holding onto her elbows. Maybe he just needed her support - to know that she was going to be fine. That he didn’t have to be scared. Where he felt like he was shaking, she was steady.

“If people find out that I’m -” 

“It gives you reason to stay with the princess,” she whispered, smiling a sad sort of smile. Neither of them wanted that detail out - it wasn’t something they ever discussed - it felt rotten to them. Then, she pat his chest, shooing him out of the back room. “Now if you don't go to her now, I will never let you live this down, you hear me? I'll bring it up every damn day.”

He knew his mother. That was a living threat. And also knowing her, she’d talk about it when he wasn’t around just to spread it and make other people his little torture. There were regulars at the pub that she could definitely get on her side. 

He gave her a nod and moved out the door. He didn’t stop himself from running. He didn’t care. In a brief moment, he didn’t hate himself - he didn’t doubt that he was the right man. He trusted his instincts, and they told him to the place where he wished he was. He made it to the palace with little hiccups before shooting up the stairs, not caring about the fact that it was closer to midnight than it was early evening. When he knocked on Arya’s door, he was given a moment where he could breathe - and no regrets on the decision he was going to make. 

Before the door opened, he heard someone clear their throat nearby. He turned, expecting Arya, only to be met with the Queen. He bowed, going to explain his actions as she spoke.

“Gendry, may I see you a moment?” she asked. At the same moment as she turned, Arya’s door swung open. 

“Hey, I -” 

He had no time, and seeing her made his heart race. “I have to go,” he said against better judgement, pointing down the hall. Arya peered out to see her mother, and to that, Gendry followed the matriarch. He had no idea where it would lead, but it didn’t feel right. 

 

~*~*~

 

Gendry walked away, and Arya stood in her doorway, biting her lip. As her door closed, she paced, mind racing with possibilities. She was scared where it would lead, and what would happen. 

Since their break up, things had been difficult for Arya. She wanted Gendry to fight for her, but as he pointed out - she never accounted for the how. It was a hard thing to understand - even though she was the one that begged for it. Pride kept her from asking him back into her arms. She had asked him to fight, she hadn’t realised how hard it would be. 

Arya still felt like trust was hard to regain, but he was starting it - he wasn’t fighting her to forgive him, but rather, he gave the opportunity for his honesty to rise to the surface, act instead of demand. 

Even when he shouted, when the words that always got stuck in his chest spilled from his lips, Arya felt her walls come down. She felt less defensive, that she needed to protect herself. When he spoke, the honesty so raw and true, it made her realise how she wanted him - to be as bare as she had been. All they had to do was be who they had always known the other was, instead of false and scared pretences. 

In all, Arya felt distant from herself and from Gendry. She hadn’t accounted for everything to happen with the dates. She didn’t want to date, and even when she kissed Elia, it was to try something; she wanted to see if she could feel more for someone else. To see if Gendry was the one that made her go crazy in love or was she in a stage of her life where she craved it. And the kiss confirmed it. 

Myrcella and Mycah were surprises. She enjoyed her small outings with Myrcella, they didn’t do anything and she confessed that she mainly wanted to see Arya to get away from her family for a while. Mycah on the other had was someone she wanted to catch up with - they had no romantic entanglement. She had no control over the media or what people said. 

It always came down to that, she found. The media, how she was portrayed, how she was seen - they were all things that made her life hard. She couldn’t be a normal person and try to discover what she needed to in private; everything, all the time, was on display. 

As for Ned Dayne…

Well, he just wasn’t her type. He was nice, very polite and very understanding - but everything with his interests and hers never aligned. They could have a pleasant conversation, sure, and but deep in her heart, Arya knew she didn’t feel anything for him. If she were to see him again, she’d want it to be on a more casual meeting. Upon meeting him, she feigned a smile, tried to play up her interest in case cameras were around, and then being trapped with him made her continue to fakeness out of...well, she didn’t want to be mean. She did find him interesting, but again, not her type. 

A knock came to her door and Arya bounded back to it, finding on the other side her father. “Arya,” he greeted as he walked past her into her room. He sat in one of her arm chairs and Arya went to the other, sitting down across from him and waited a moment. 

“Dad, what’s up?” she asked, shifting forward, pursing her lips nervously. 

He sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees as his hand went to his mouth. It felt as though he were unsure if he should even be there - to talk to her even. Arya swallowed, feeling an intense urge to jump and act rather than sit there and want. As he looked up, he shook his head. “I know I spoke to you about Gendry, but I feel as though you need to apologise. You know he didn’t mean to hurt you. But your attitude has been quite...selfish,” he said through grit teeth, reclining back in his chair. He stared at Arya

“Have I been?” she said, though a fire burned in her chest. To be fair, she felt attacked. But as she saw her actions, try to understand what he was getting at, it felt right for him to say so. “I don’t think I’ve even noticed.” She fell back into her chair before kicking out and groaning. “Ugh! Why is this so hard?!”

With a shrug, Ned replied. “You love someone and they hurt you. It’s hard to forgive that.” Arya bound her fists at her sides before she moved to her father’s side, sitting on the floor next to his knee. 

“I just want to feel okay again.” 

A hand on her cheek, Ned smiled to her, sympathetic and fondly. “Giving into pain feeds on the worst parts of ourselves. We turn into self-righteous bastards, thinking we are the victims, when really, we’re just in pain. You don’t feel okay because that pain had fed on something so deeply rooted that its manifested into something else. You have to let go of that grief, be better than it. Be more, Arya. You are capable of so much more,” he said with a whisper. And it made sense. Her life was a series of risks, taken and untaken - shown throughout the media, every flaw and mistake she’s ever made. Then, it was subjected to more. She had always been seen as the flippant one, the one undeserving of the life she had because she didn’t act on it the way she should have. 

The moment it all ended, all their words, all the things she thought were lies were made true, and she was scared. She pushed as much as she wanted to cling onto what she no longer had. 

“I know. He should be coming by later,” Arya said back, and her father nodded, standing and helping her to her feet. He was ready to leave when he turned on his heels. 

“Oh, a boy is here to see you. Edric?” he said, and Arya scrunched up her face.

“Edric?” she asked, before it dawned on her. “Oh! Ned. Right. Um, I should see him, shouldn’t I?” She grimaced as her father did so in return. They snickered for a moment before he gave a stiff nod.

“It’s only right. He came all this way,” he smiled before leaving her room. 

It was only a few more minutes before Ned was at her door, smiling so wide it felt intoxicating. His energy was chipper and gave an aura of joy even when Arya didn’t feel like she owned any more. 

“Ned, hey, you’re here late?” she said. Ned looked nice, his hands behind his back as he waited for Arya to receive him. 

“I came by to see how you were and bring you these,” he said, pulling his arm out from behind his back and revealing a bouquet. It had an assortment of flowers that her sister may have known the names of but was completely lost on Arya. She smiled, taking them from his hands. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking them into her room and setting them down on a dresser. 

“I know you’re probably not a flower person, but I think every woman deserves to get flowers just once,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“That’s very sweet of you,” Arya said with a nod. 

“I don’t know how many more dates I’m going to get with you,” he sighed, and Arya frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, from the newspapers and the way your security guard stares at you, I’m pretty sure he’s still in love with you in spite of you two not being a thing,” he said, walking towards her. 

“It’s complicated,” she laughed, rolling her shoulders uncomfortably. 

“Which is why I want to do this, just once,” he said, stepping into her. Arya wanted to back up but found there was no room before her and the dresser she had placed her flowers down onto. 

“Do wh-” 

His lips were on hers before she could ask. Within a second, Arya was trying to get out from the touch. She wasn’t expecting it, and if she had been asked, she most likely would have declined. As soon as they pulled away from each other, Arya didn’t even have a second to register what was happening when Gendry at her door spoke. 

“I’m sorry for the intrusion, your highness,” Gendry said, clearing his throat at the door. 

Ned grimaced to Arya at the sudden moment, mouthing an apology before he left the room. “Have a fine night, Gendry,” he said quietly before he was gone. Gendry looked down at the floor before he looked back at Arya. 

“I didn’t know that was going to happen,” Arya said, racing up to Gendry. He tucked his hands behind his back, but in his eyes, Arya could tell he was lying - the watery edge of his eye was giving him away. Arya’s heart clenched tight. 

“Arya, can you please stop apologising for living your life. I already told you -” 

“Why are you always so willing to give up at any inconvenience?” she said, her chest feeling tight and body ready to break apart. She wanted to cry - everything was happening all at once and there wasn’t an easy way to fix this when tempers were high in stubborn people. 

“Hey, I’m not giving up, but it’s clear that you can get whoever you -” 

“You walked in one something you didn’t understand. I can explain that,” she said, stern voice even when she felt like she would waver. Then, Gendry broke from his consistent bodyguard attitude to the man that she knew - the one that took a moment in the woods to confess love, or the very same bedroom to do something that he should have regret but didn’t. 

“Looking at you is painful. I know what I did was wrong, but every time you’re with someone it’s like I’m being punished over and over again! I am in  _ pain _ here!” he exclaimed, and Arya watched as he poured himself into his words, panting as he tried to catch his breath, letting words come out even if they were painful to say. “I know I shouldn’t feel like I can’t have you. But I’ve never felt this happy in my life, and of course I had to fuck it up!” he said, throwing his hands into the air before he took a moment to recover. Putting his hands on his hips, Gendry looked back to Arya, sighing and moving to an appropriate distance as all security personnel did. “I’m sorry for the outburst, your highness. Goodnight.” He gave a stiff nod before he moved off down the hall. 

If he had stayed, he would have heard everything that Arya wanted to say, to get a moment alone with him and explain he didn’t need to be in pain anymore. Fuck. She had fucked this up too, hadn’t she?

All night, Arya tossed and turned. Everything was harder than it should have been. And she knew why. She was so fucking stubborn that she couldn’t let anything be easy. Even when it should have been. When walls could come down, she’d rather build them up and watch someone fall trying to climb it. Arya knew it wasn’t healthy, but fear kept her hidden, and pride kept her from caring who fell. 

At least, it used to. 

She woke in a foul mood, provided to her by the lack of sleep the night before. She received a text from Ned that morning, apologising once more about his abrupt attack, but said it would make Gendry jealous enough to ask her out again. Arya wasn’t sure about that, as she walked to the kitchen, she felt frozen by his presence. He didn’t seem at all willing to even acknowledge her existence. 

Arya cleared her throat as she raced up to his side, walking beside him. 

“Last night, you got called in by my mum, what did she say?” she asked, curiosity keeping them from the words that were said, and things the other had witnessed. 

“It wasn’t important,” he stopped to look at her, his eyes fixed on her like she was something he couldn’t understand. Arya sucked in a breath that felt hollow of anything in her chest. 

“Please be honest with me,” Arya asked, moving into his space. Gendry stepped away, the space between them becoming like it how it used to - filled with a tension that no words could describe, but only a kiss could release. 

“I’m being moved to Robb’s detail in two weeks,” he said, the way his jaw snapped shut once he was finished talking was shocking, like he was shoving a door in her face. 

“Robb?” she asked, and they began walking again.

“I’m told it’s going to be easier for you,” he said, though the way his jaw tightened seemed forced, as though the words weren’t his own. 

“Gendry -” 

They were interrupted by the Queen coming into the long corridor from the staircase. She beamed once she caught sight of Arya and snatched up her hands excitedly. “Arya, we have some ambassadors wanting to speak to you about your new gym idea. They’re very interested in expanding women’s involvement in sports,” she said, and although it was everything Arya wanted to talk about, she wanted to stay with the man at her side more. Then, her mother turned to him, giving him a soft nod of acknowledgement. “Gendry.” 

“Your Majesty,” he bowed, and allowed Arya to follow her mother. He stayed in the spot she left him until her mother dragged her off, rounding a corner where she could no longer find him. 

They weren’t able to see each other for the rest of the day, or the following morning either. Arya kept getting swept away, pulled from the place where she had always desired to be. For the rest of her night that day, she was in meeting after meeting, organising things with her mother. 

There were moments of silence between them that made Arya want to ask what was talked about between her bodyguard an the queen, but every time courage came, it was tossed aside by the knowledge was the one that would answer. It was hard for Arya to connect with her mother, and sometimes, just asking a question was enough to pull the two apart. Arya was scared of the answers that would come. All she wanted to know was that Gendry was still going to fight. 

After coming back from a morning meeting with a few different groups that wanted to help Arya launch her organisation, she found Gendry at the bottom of a staircase. He looked exhausted, though she didn’t realise why until she looked at her watch. From what she thought was just a morning meeting had gone into her afternoon, and would have been a full shift for Gendry. 

Upon seeing her, it seemed as though dread kept him staying still. He almost bolted from his place at the brink of the stairs, and off towards the staff exit. Arya threw her things on the stairs and chased after him. They were getting towards the locker rooms, and Arya shouted. 

“Why are you being like this?” 

“Like what?” Gendry turned to her before he kept walking.

“Like every time you see me, you want to die,” she said, stopping as she watched Gendy walk away. She was surprised when he did too, as though he were finally seen and didn’t know that someone was watching. Arya moved first, surging forward and grabbing hold of the sleeve of his jacket. He looked down to her hand before he met his gaze with hers. “Gendry, I want to say I’m sorry for everything. This didn’t just happen to me, it happened to you too. I know being with me made things difficult, but…” she started, her words suddenly feeling awkward and less effective than they had in her head. She sighed, letting his sleeve go as she stepped back from him. “Look, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say for being selfish and a brat and thinking I was the only person that was hurt,” she admitted, folding her arms and waiting for him to reply. Gendry rubbed at the back of his neck. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. 

“Say you’ll take me back?” she said softly, chewing on her lip when his attention shot back to her. 

“What?”

“I have to earn back your trust too, I know that, but we can if you want?” she said, hope rising enough to bring out a smile. Then, without warning, Gendry pulled away, staggering backwards. 

“I have to go.”

Arya stared back, watching him leave. “Wait, what? Why?”

“I’ll get Beric with you,” he said, turning into the locker room. 

“I don’t want Beric, I want you!” she shouted, only for the door to close behind him. Arya sighed, moving from the corridor and back up to her room. She tossed her things inside before she bounded into her sister’s room, needing someone to just take her mind off of the awful luck she had been having. 

As Arya stared up at the ceiling, Sansa prancing around her room, talking about her day and how Sandor was being an idiot about her detail because of being switched out all the time. It was hard for Arya to concentrate, all she could think about how dumbstruck Gendry’s face was when he heard what she had said. Gendry rarely looked like a fool - he was smart in his own way and made sure that when he didn’t know something, it didn’t show. So to look floored by something, and confused about it too, made Arya confused as well. 

Why was everything all complicated. 

Suddenly, Sansa was over her, hair concealing their faces as Sansa hovered over Arya. She was about to toss Sansa away from her, when Sansa said something that made her stop. 

“I’ve been talking to him, you know?” Sansa said. Arya crept out from underneath Sansa and leaned on her elbows to look at her sister. 

“To who?” she asked. 

“Gendry,” she scoffed, knowing full well it was obvious. 

“What? Why?” 

“When Sandor and Gendry swapped, we’d sit in my room and talk,” she explained, and Arya was in shock. They talked? He didn’t follow Sansa around and sulk? He enjoyed her company enough to talk to her? Why did everyone always like Sansa!

“About?” 

“You, dummy,” Sansa snickered tumbling back against her pillows and setting up like she was going to stay silent. As Arya crept over to her sister’s side, a fist raised to threaten her, Sansa caved, though with how easy it all came out, Arya suspected Sansa didn’t need the prompting. “He still loves you, but he’s so scared that you’re going to reject him that he isn’t secure enough to ask,” she confessed, and Arya fell back against the pillows, pulling the duvet over her head as she groaned into it. Then, she peaked out, looking at Sansa.

“I want him back but it still feels like he’s pulling away.” Her voice was muffled by the duvet, but it was still concerned. 

“It’ll take a little to feel ok, but there isn’t any harm in taking him back,” Sansa said, pulling it away and making Arya speak. 

“What if he hurts me again? What if I hurt him again too?”

“That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. I think you guys have been so stuck in your own heads that seeing someone who is desperately in love with you is hard,” she said, and the two looked at each other, saddened by their conversation. All Arya wanted to do was resolve everything - to be rid of the thing that hung over her like a smell that wouldn’t rest. 

Even when the night came to a close and Arya had crept back into her room, she still thought of everything - the pain that fuelled a hatred in them for whatever reason. Mostly, Arya hated that the pain had persisted, that she let it evade her life and stay there, making her someone she didn’t want to be. 

In the middle of the night, she was woken from her sleep to a banging on her door. She winced as she looked at the time on her phone. Close to two in the morning. Wrapping a long cardigan around herself, she went to her door, ready to yell at Sam for forcing a midnight fire drill on them again when she saw a disheveled Gendry in front of her. 

“I know I messed up. I can’t take that back,” he blurted at the first sign of her. Gendry wasn’t quite staying up on his own, holding onto the frame of the door, and he looked semi-dazed. His suit from work was undone - tie loose, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He just looked like Gendry, and not the bodyguard she saw a few hours earlier.

“Gendry, are you drunk?” 

“Yes.” 

Arya glanced around, surprised no one was awake from how loud he was being. “How did you even get back in the palace?” 

“You think I just forget your secret entrances? Which makes this place less secure, I should seal them up,” he said, hand going to his forehead, as though he were sobering up, even when he was tipsy. 

“Why are you here?” she asked, wrapping her cardigan around herself tighter. His hair was a mess, like he had been pulling at it or had worked his fingers through it to make it look nicer. Either way, it didn’t work for him. Then, like everything came crashing down, Gendry looked at her, his bottom lip quivering and eyes the saddest she had ever seen them. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Like I keep seeing you and knowing I missed out on the only happiness I ever had. I should have fought by your side. I should have told the world to go fuck itself and stand there with you. But I got scared. My mum...she’s everything to me. I thought I’d lose her. But all I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, now I’m shoved to the side like the world always wanted for me. I would go down on my knees right now and say how much I love you if it’d do any good. Please, tell me what to do...what to say...how to fight. I’ll do it all, I can’t live like this anymore,” he said, the truth pouring out of him like he couldn’t stop. Words that had gone unsaid for so long, he wasn’t sure if he’d get them all out, so instead, he didn’t break to breathe - he just had to  _ tell her _ . 

“Gendry, please, I want to talk to you about this, but I want you sober, we can -” 

“I meant it. I’ve been breaking my heart every day just to be around you. I can’t explain why it all happened, it just happened and I was freaked out. The dates - they’ve been painful and I just want to leave this place for good because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and I didn’t even know it until it was too late. I’m sorry. I have to keep saying it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s all self esteem shit, and I can’t put that on you, but it happened because I’m just..” he stopped, tears falling from his eyes, his hand going to his face to wipe them away. He looked so broken, and he wasn’t hiding the fact that he was crying. Arya stepped towards him instinct holding her to her heart’s desire. “I’m just sick of feeling like I’m a piece of shit, and you don’t make me that. You make me better, and I can’t believe I gave you up,” he said, a sob coming and his shoulders hunching as he finally let out a strangled cry. 

“Hey, baby, come here,” she said, the name slipping, but she didn’t care. She pulled him into her room, holding tight to his hands, to centre him to her.

“I don’t know how you’d want me, why you look at me the way you do and still want me to fight. I want to keep going, but I don’t want it to be for nothing,” he confessed in between a shaking breath. 

“It’s not. I promise it’s not,” she shook her head, words coming fast, as though the speed would convince him. 

“I’ll never leave you again, I’ll always be by your side if you want me. I’ll be everything I’m bad at. You make me better! Please, I’ll do everything I need in order to prote-” 

She kissed him without thinking, her heart thumping like a drum, beating at her like a call from his words directly to her heart. Arya couldn’t take it and she pounced. Gendry made a noise against her lips for a second before he curled his arms around the small of her back, holding her to him, kissing her back desperately. 

Pulling away, Gendry’s hands went to her cheeks, smiling to her in a drunk haze. “You don’t ever have to leave again, I promise.” She smiled, holding him and not regretting anything for a moment. 

“I will always be in love with you, Arya Stark,” he said, and Arya felt herself get choked up, almost unable to reply. 

“I love you.” 

“Do you trust me? That I’ll never hurt you again?” he asked, sniffing, as he held her face, bringing his forehead to hers. 

“With all my heart. I trust you with my whole life,” she confessed, whispering to him before she pulled him to her bed. There, she held him in her arms, putting them to bed and finding the familiarity in their embrace. 

It was a loving home, inside her bed, inside his arms. It was everything that made her feel safe. 

Before the morning light came in, Arya called down to the kitchen, asking for a few things for breakfast, including an entire pot of coffee. In the meantime, she sat up in her bed, watching the lump of a drunken idiot sleep soundly in a bed he had shared with her on different occasions. She liked seeing him sleep, sound and peaceful, no longer a worry in him. 

When the knocking started, Arya saw Gendry stir and she jumped from the bed, curling her cardigan back around herself and bolting to the door. “Shit,” she swore as she tried to keep the room quiet. She opened it up wide to the trolley of food and Hot Pie with his bright face and very bright personality.

“Good morning, princess!” he beamed, handing over the trolley. 

“Thank you for this,” she whispered back, joistling the trolley into her room and trying her hardest not to wake Gendry in her bed. 

“Why are you whispering?” he whispered back to her. Arya smiled back nervously.

“I have a headache, just keeping it quiet this morning.” She lied well from Hot Pie’s shocked face and finger pressing to his lips. As she closed the door, she heard the soft sounds of her sheets shifting around, a groan of discomfort. 

“Fuck,” Gendry moaned before a moment passed. As Arya rounded the small corner to see him in bed, his body half up from the bed, rubbing at his eye before he saw the room and then, Arya. “Oh fuck,” he swore under his breath before getting up from the bed. Arya smiled as he stumbled to stay upright, and she walked over to him as he spoke. “Your Highness, I’m so sorry about last night, I’m sure you didn’t need a drunken idiot at your doo-” he said, as though he only remembered part of the night. Arya interrupted him quickly, stealing a kiss at the edge of his words. As she settled back on her feet, Gendry looked at her, confused and trying to remember. “Wait what?” 

Arya stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his back. Gendry stiffened, watching her as she looked up at him. “My stupid boyfriend came crying to me last night, and I couldn’t very well send him off in that state,” she explained. 

“Boyfriend?” he asked. 

“Yep. My boyfriend,” she confirmed, and as soon as she said it, Gendry lit up like a Christmas tree, surging forward and kissing her with every ounce of himself. Arya had missed being kissed like that - like not kissing her would mean death if he didn’t do it right then and there. 

“I know we need to talk about shit, but right now I just want to kiss you until my headache goes away,” he said, forehead against hers. 

“I can definitely help with the kissing part,” she laughed as Gendry fell back into the bed, dragging her with him, kissing him as much as she damn well wanted. 

And so they talked. They actually talked. After all the kissing of course. Arya said her peace - her heart free of the burden of its shattered state, and the guilt she had been feeling these last few days over how things were shoved in his face unfairly, especially when most things were untrue. Gendry apologised for acting like a child about everything, mostly that he hurt her. He said he wanted to be honest. Arya agreed on this - they needed it. At every moment, they couldn’t let every insecurity that had fed on their unhappiness surface again. 

She acted like a spoiled teenager, and she had promised herself that she’d never be that girl again. Arya kinda failed with that, but Gendry didn’t seem to mind when he was holding her hand. 

With his thumb running over the knuckles of her hand, he seemed troubled. Arya moved into his face, nose nudging against his and a small little laugh came from him as he looked up at her. 

“I have to tell you something. It’s...one of the reasons I didn’t want the paparazzi around me or my family,” he said, voice cracking as he spoke. 

“What is it?” 

“My dad...I know who he is, and it’s...not…” 

“Who -” 

“King Robert,” he blurted, looking at her with cautious eyes.

“Baratheon? What about him?” she asked with a scoff, only to be met with silence. Then, a thought occurred to her. “He’s…” she asked, and Gendry gave a slow nod. “Seven Hells,” she exclaimed, and in a moment, Gendry gripped her hands tighter, as though he were going to lose her. 

“I don’t talk about it a lot. I don’t think about the bastard and what he did to my mum. But the news...they could make a big deal about it and maybe try and -” 

“You have claim,” she realised, and Gendry didn’t look at her - only their hands. Sucking in her lip, she thought. Taking her hand from his, she placed it on his cheek, making him look up at her. “Ok, so we’ll talk to my dad. We’ll work it out. We’ll figure everything out. Together.”

Gendry’s eyes glistened, nerves relieved from his shoulders and his forehead met hers, a sigh escaping him. “I love you, Arya Stark,” he confessed.

“I love you too, Waters,” Arya replied, nose nuzzling his. 

And when Gendry tackled her to the bed again, holding her to his chest and taking the morning for themselves, she felt it. Every ounce of him, every molecule he had, loved her. He would never let her go if he had air in his lungs. He would always love her without restraint, without people judging him. 

Arya Stark was loved. And she loved being loved, because loving him back was so easy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, so, sorry for all the angst, but hope this has made up for all the pain??


	16. Wherever You Are Is Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah....i didn't edit this. what of it. (edits will come in the morning)  
> PLEASE ENJOY!

_ “Gendry,” The queen said, offering Gendry a seat across from her in her private study. He was nervous when he called her in - all he wanted to do was talk with Arya but was pulled away when she answered the door. _

_ “Your Majesty,” he greeted, sitting down. “I have to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see you. You haven’t exactly been the most welcoming person to me,” he explained, though when she looked at him with a stern gaze, he suspected that he may have said too much.  _

_ “I’m not the most welcoming person to anyone. I’ve found that distance keeps me safe. The only person I’ve ever truly opened up to is my husband,” she said, reaching over to the coffee table between them, and picking up a cup of what he assumed was tea. Taking a sip, she continued what she was saying, “but now, I feel as though I must open up to you.”  _

_ “To me?” he said with a furrow in his brow. “I don’t think that’s necessary, your majesty,” he chuckled, readying for the night to be finished and he could leave.  _

_ “For this conversation, and this conversation only, refer to me as Catelyn. I want us both to be honest,” she said, and Gendry swallowed. _

_ “Alright,” he said with a nod. _

_ “Tea?” she asked, gesturing to the teapot that rested nearby.  _

_ “Sure,” he replied, though he were still unsure this was all happening.  Catelyn poured him a cup and slid it over to him.  _

_ “Arya and I don’t get on that much, I suspect you’ve known that,” she explained, to which Gendry shook his head. _

_ “I wouldn’t say that, your majesty,” he replied, to which she looked at him with a frown.  “Catelyn,” he corrected.  _

_ “Then what would you say?” she asked.  _

_ “I’d say she’s so willing to make you proud, but can’t measure up to you. She’s scared you won’t love her,” he replied, clearing his throat as he spoke words meant to be from someone else. He knew Arya well enough to know what she thought of her mother - though fear she instilled in most people, Arya didn’t ever think she’d be one. Until she was smothered by her mother and it became clear that disappointing her was the last thing she wanted to do.  _

_ “I love that girl with all my heart. She’s everything to me,” she said, clearing her throat as he voice got choked up, “all my children are. I know she’s Ned’s favourite. She looks like his sister,” she said, to that Gendy didn’t know. He knew that Ned loved Arya unlike the others, but he didn’t know what Arya truly meant to the patriarch. “But Arya has greatness in her. I just want her to use it,” she finished, sipping at her tea again. Gendry reached for his own, sipping at it in case she looked at him with that scowl again. Gods, even if he wasn’t afraid of people, Catelyn had a way about her that made him feel like he was about to be shot.  _

_ “She is,” he agreed. _

_ “She started to. When you were with her,” she commended, “I may have been blind to your love, but I should have seen it. Arya lit up when you were around. You pushed her to be better. To be her own warrior, like she’s always wanted.”  _

_ “Why am I here, your -” he stopped as she glared at him again, “Catelyn, why was I called here, really? Because I know it isn’t to talk about my wanting to change details.”  _

_ “Please stop waiting.” It was a direction that Gendry wasn’t allowed to disobey. The stern gaze she held him in was enough to tell him what he needed to do - he needed to stop being a fool, and follow what he should have from the beginning - his heart. “I love her, and seeing how she’s changed, it breaks my heart. And she loves you. She’s so stubborn, like me. We build walls to keep those that would hurt us out,” she said with a sigh as she looked out the window, as though it were hard to even admit - or maybe a memory was too hard. Either way, it took her a minute to compose herself. “I don’t want her to have walls,” she said, turning back to him, eyes sadder than a few moments ago.  _

_ “Your majesty, I love your daughter, I do. But wouldn’t it better for her to fit with any of the matches that you found for her?” he asked, clearing his throat, trying to read the queen. To that, she shrugged. _

_ “It would make the world easier, but that’s not the world. That’s not Arya’s heart. I have a profound respect for you, even if you don’t see me showing it to you. I hope that in the future, I will get more opportunities to show you that.” It was a matter of fact, she was willing to open up, tell him the truth, even though she seemed uncomfortable to say it. Like she said, walls are kept up to protect the heart - exposing it meant there was a possibility of attack. “You would make her the happiest woman in the world. And me, the happiest mother,” she said, a smile forming before behind hidden by her cup.  _

_ “Thank you,” Gendry said with a nod, not sure what else to say. As the queen took her final sip, she put it down and reclined back in her chair.  _

_ “Now, I’ll tell you the simplest way to get back into a stubborn heart,” she said, a rise in her chin, as though the confidence she had lacked before had now come up without restraint.  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “You really think Ned and I had the smoothest sailings? Like I said, she and I are alike,” she scoffed, and Gendry leaned forward, waiting for the advice, “tell her everything.”  _

_ “Excuse me?” he replied.  _

_ “Every burden your heart has had to bear, why it had to shatter, why you feel the way you do. Give her every part of yourself, even if you’re frightened that she’ll turn away. She wants to see your walls go down too,” she explained, as though she were recalling something that helped her in the past. The kindness in her eyes, the sincerity, it made Gendry feel welcomed into a part of a person that had closed off most people. It was hard, and he understood, so he gave her a nod, swallowing the lump in his throat from what she showed.  _

_ “Thank you,” he replied. Then, as she reached for her cup, she gestured for him to leave.  _

_ “You’re being moved to Robb’s detail for a short time. Until everything is settled, I think it’ll be best. Robb and Arya don’t see each other a lot, so it works in your favour,” she said, sipping her tea, smiling to him.  _

_ “Thank you, your majesty,” Gendry said, bowing as he got up to leave. As he turned, the queen cleared her throat, which made him turn.  _

_ “I quite like being called Catelyn. That’s why I asked,” she said, and shrugged to his questionable look. “I still hold authority even without my title,”  _

_ “I’ll keep that in mind, Catelyn,” he smiled back, and for a moment, it seemed like she had enjoyed the way he said her name.  _

_ When he left, he had every intention to tell Arya what was going on, but when he was met with Ned Dayne kissing her, something built up in his chest so fast, he closed himself down. It took him a lot of alcohol to buck up the courage to go back and tell Arya everything.  _

_ He wondered if Catelyn ever had to resort to such things, but that was a drunken thought as he banged on Arya’s door at two in the morning.  _

 

*~*~*

 

It had been two days since Gendry had stumbled to her room late at night, and stayed with her until morning. Neither of them regretted the night, but Gendry didn’t handle his hangover well. Especially when Arya dragged him to her parents, announcing to them that she was dating him again. What she wasn’t entirely expecting was her parents colliding into an embrace and dragging Gendry into hugs that he took very awkwardly. 

After her parents explained they were happy, then came the awkward part. Well, in Arya’s opinion, it was awkward to admit that her boyfriend was technically a Baratheon, but a bastard one that had never met his father. What she wasn’t expecting was her father to not react at all - his best friend had fathered a bastard, but it wasn’t a surprise. Really, it wasn’t a surprise from what Arya knew of the man, but to be her boyfriend, she was a little shocked on that note. Catelyn, on the other hand did react, though not the way Arya expected. Catelyn said that the information wouldn’t come out, that the family would protect Gendry’s privacy in the matter and no one would ever think Gendry couldn’t fit in with the image of the royal family, regardless of their home life. 

After that, Arya took Gendry back to her room where she got him to lie down. He looked sick for most of the meeting, as though at any second he’d keel over. He wasn’t sick or anything, just hungover and needed some rest. Taking care of him, spending time casually made Arya feel wanted and needed. And she knew, the minute he could, he’d repay her tenfold. He just loved her. Arya loved feeling loved. 

When Gendry had to go home after his shift, Arya held onto his hand as long as she could, trying to keep them together as long as possible. Instead, Gendry kissed her, dragging her up onto her toes with his hands on her cheeks to guide her to him. With her breath stolen, she was dazed to his wandering off. She hated that he bested her, but loved the smile he held when he looked back at her. He felt loved too. 

The day following, Sansa came crashing into Arya’s room after breakfast. It was briefly mentioned that the pair were back together, and even after her siblings badgered her with questions, she remained tightlipped and went back to her room to go over some notes she needed for a public appearance for her organisations first public event. It was nerve wracking, but knowing Gendry would support her was enough. 

“I’m so glad you guys are back together!” Sansa screamed, pushing Arya back into the bed and wrapping her entire body around Arya. All of Arya’s notes were scattered off her bed, and 

“Can you shut up? Gendry is at the door,” Arya said, pulling herself up to see Gendry grinning at the edge of the door. 

“And I can hear you,” he shouted into the room and Arya collapsed into the bed, holding her hands over her face, “plus I’m used to it by now, can I come in?” 

“Yes,” Arya called, to which Gendry came in, closing the door behind him. He walked in, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching as Sansa hugged at Arya’s side, kicking at Gendry’s thigh - though he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m gonna miss you around all the time,” Arya confessed, pouting as she was unable to move at that moment. She would have found her place in his arms as many times she could, just to make sure it was all real.

“Just hang around Robb all the time,” Gendry smirked, and Arya wriggled out of her sister’s embrace, colliding with Gendry, who held her in his lap comfortably. 

“You two are gross,” Sansa groaned. 

“Hey, you wanted this, you pay the price,” Gendry said and Arya cackled, looking at Sansa’s face, trying her hardest to be mad at his answer, but she did in fact push for this to be their norm. Instead, she smiled and shook her head. 

For most of the day, Arya went around organising things with a few different staffers, making sure that everything in two weeks time would run smoothly. It would also be the same time that Gendry would no longer be on Arya’s detail, so she found herself glancing over to him, making sure he was still there - which he was, but she didn’t understand why she was so scared. That he’d leave, that’d he’d disappear right under her nose. It wasn’t fair to him after they’d sorted things out to still feel like she couldn’t trust him. 

At lunch, she told him as much. Gendry wasn’t offended, but rather said that she needed to feel comfortable around him. He wasn’t going to leave her willingly, so she didn’t need to worry. Time was a factor in all of this mess, and she’d trust him not to leave again. But time would be the thing that told them as much. 

Every time they talked, Arya found herself falling more in love with him - that there was an openness to him that there wasn’t before he came to her door drunk as hell. Gendry told her everything, even when he didn’t have to, but he was just being honest, and seeing him unguarded and unashamed of showing himself off to Arya made her feel special. 

He left the same way he had the day before, kissing her and making her feel hazy that she couldn’t keep him around. She reasoned that one day, she’d overcome the way he made her feel, that she’d trap him into staying for a little while longer. Yet, there was another part of her that craved the feeling to never leave, to constantly fall for him regardless of how he kissed her - she’d always feel her heart leap and she couldn’t catch up with him. 

As afternoon snuck in, Arya felt the urge to do something she hadn’t done since she was eighteen. From the depths of her closest, she found the blonde hair that had been hidden under shoes and got everything together. With the bralette wrapped in straps with a crisscross against her chest, emphasising her cleavage - even the little that it was. Over it she wore a flannel, half red and half white, the two competing flannels sewn together one night by Sansa. Her sister had the matching piece. Arya’s outfit was paired with black jeans and boots, and she was almost ready. With round glasses on, she fixed her hair beneath the blonde wig and fixed herself into a presentable person. 

When she was younger, she thought the best way to sneak out of the palace was to be someone completely different. In the end, she used it only a few times before she realised she just had to escape her security well enough to make it into town. With hundreds of different routes through the palace, she made it impossible to follow her. 

Heading into town, she was unrecognised by those that passed her by, and she easily made it to the apartment that held memories that no one but the two of them could touch. Knocking a fanciful beat, Arya stood with her hands behind her back. When once she tried to run away from him, she now ran to him. 

Gendry opened the door and blinked, as though he had to take her in a few extra seconds to make sure it was really her. Arya beamed back. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, opening the door up wider and guiding her inside. Gendry seemed relaxed, in sweatpants and a tank that had been worn out from use. Seeing him like that often made Arya’s heart flutter - a way that no suit could do. With him every day in a suit, seeing a relaxed Gendry was her favourite version of him. 

“Wanted to hang out, and knew if I texted you would have told me to stay home,” she explained, throwing her things on his kitchen counter and looking back at him. He grinned as he walked over to her. As he stood a foot away from her, his hands graced up to her cheeks before they gently drifted to her hair, combing back the wig and laying it perfectly on the counter. 

“You have a weird fascination with my apartment,” Gendry grinned as he leaned down to her. His lips grazed her own and Arya felt herself lose her breath, as though he had intended to take it. The kiss he laid there was brief, but allowed Arya a moment to recover.

“It feels like a home,” she confessed. 

“Well don’t get too attached,” he scoffed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“I’m moving,” he said, going to his fridge and taking out a beer. Arya frowned, rounding the bench and not allowing him space. He was taken back by how quick she moved, but her heart was hammering for an answer. 

“W-what? I thought we were passed all this and you said you -” 

Gendry’s eyes went wide and put his beer down, holding onto her shoulders. “Ah! Don’t get worked up. I’m moving to a house closer to the palace. It’s cheap, and Pod said he’d move in with me to help for it, so I’m moving to be closer to you,” he explained, and Arya felt her face get hot - embarrassment washing over her.

“Oh,” she said, “you’re kinda clingy,” she tried to play it off. 

“Says you,” Gendry said, nose nudging against hers. She hated that it worked to calm her down.

“Yes, says me. Your beautiful, royal girlfriend,” she said, leaning against the counter, trying to seem as seductive as possible. She wasn’t sure if it’d work after her whole freak out. 

“That’s a first for you. Embracing the royalty thing,” he said, hands either side of her on the bench, cornering her in her spot. She felt the air shift, heat fuelling their interaction more than it should have. 

“You should see me in a tiara,” she said, voice low, dripping with allure. She begged for him to fall for it. He didn’t, as he scoffed and moved off from the bench, taking his beer, and heading back to the rest of his living room. 

“Oh please, like you’d allow your family to force one on you,” he reminded. He was right, but she couldn’t let him know that. 

“You’d be surprised, I can be very girly when I have someone to impress,” she said, following after him, biting at her lip, wondering if he’d turn around. 

“I feel like you’re reaching for something here,” he glanced over his shoulder, crackling

“A kiss, mostly,” she said, smiling. Gendry turned, putting the beer down on the coffee table, hands going into his pockets. 

“Oh I know, you usually have to reach for that. Short ass.” 

“Ok, not my fault you’re practically a giant,” Arya retailated, her chest heaving as she tried to calm the storm of lust that was filling her body. It was no use when Gendry gave her that cocky look, like that day they first met - major cunt was coming out to play and she almost hoped he stayed. 

“I think you’re the one that’s stunted. I mean, I’m not even that tall. Most people are taller than I am.” He cracked a smirk and Arya was gone. 

He should have known what teasing would get him. Or maybe that was why he did it. Arya ran into him, pulling hard on the back of his neck to tug him down and have their mouths meet. It was hard, and mostly teeth, but it softened when Gendry guided Arya up into his arms. Their heat fuelled their encounter and their skin burned as they touched, leaving streaks of wonderful bliss in their bodies. 

Gendry crashed them to the couch, dragging her flannel from her arms as he kissed the length of her body. He tasted her for what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes. Either way, Arya became impatient and dragged him back to her, kissing him as she fumbled with her belt and Gendry stripped himself out of his clothes. 

As their clothes fell around his apartment living room, Arya back in her favourite place, sitting upon his lap and taking strides like it was a place made for her - she felt perfect. Her world had rounded to a point where she only cared about being with the man that gasped every time she sank down back into his lap. He lingered kisses on her collar as though they were his last, but every time he kissed her, he made it clear that he would never stop kissing her for as long as he lived. 

Arya didn’t care how long they lasted, she just wanted to be with him. When she looked at Gendry, his features tight with a coming release, she cupped his cheek. Watching how he softened, allowing himself to fall apart with his eyes focused on her before he sighed, whispering into her skin like she were a miracle he had to continue to pray for. Arya fell in love with him every time he looked at her - and she knew, every time their eyes met, Gendry was feeling the same. 

Gendry had placed a throw blanket over their bodies as they laid on the floor, the tv playing some show that Arya didn’t pay attention to. She had drifted in and out of sleep, adoring the beating heart that lay beneath her ear, and the sensation of her boyfriend breathing was enough to settle any fears that lay within her. She hadn’t realised what time it was until Gendry’s finger poked in her cheek. 

“Hey, we should get you back to the palace,” he said, voice harsh as though he had just woken up himself. Arya looked around, finding a clock that read 11:45pm. Arya fell back against his chest. 

“Ugh,” Arya groaned, holding him closer, “I don’t wanna.” 

“Babe, come on, we can’t have you out this late,” he whispered, trying to shift out of her grasp. Instead, Arya pulled on him again, her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

“I love you,” she said, smile on her face. Gendry laughed, his nose nudging against hers, heart fluttering to a comfort. 

“Yeah, I love you too, but I’m still not letting you stay here to spite your mother,” he said, finally managing to move around and grab his clothes. Arya clutched at the throw, pulling it to her chest as she watched him extend to get her things. 

“Which reminds me, what did my mother say to you that night Ned Dayne came to my room?” she asked, which made Gendry’s attention whip back to her. He had a pink blush running over his cheeks. 

“We don’t need to -” 

“I’ll go home if you tell me,” she bargained. Gendry savoured the query, taking a few moments before he sighed. 

“How about I’ll walk you back,” he asked back, pulling his sweatpants on as he went to gather up her things. 

“Ok?” she replied before Gendry asked if she wanted to burrow warmer clothes for the night. They changed into comfortable clothes, rugging up with Arya’s wig coming back on. Gendry pulled a scarf around her shoulders, making sure she was cozy as they walked arm in arm along the sidewalk. There was something so special about it - it would be natural for any ordinary couple to do, to take care of one another even if it were just to dress for the weather. But still, everything about Arya’s life wasn’t ordinary. Gendry gave her the simplicity of normalcy, though she doubted he realised he did it. 

“So, why are we walking back to the palace and not having you drive me?” she asked, head resting on his shoulder. Gendry huff, a plume of frosted air billowed from his nose.

“Your mum cares a lot about you,” he replied, and Arya looked up at him with a curious look. 

“Okay? But that still doesn’t explain why she wanted to speak with you,” she said, tugging on his arm a little. He chuckled to himself as he looked back at her. 

“I don’t feel right talking about this without her here. I have to say, she’s a very frightening woman, I see where you get it from.”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” she reminded him. 

He stopped, looking back at her, as though it were sensitive to breach the topic. Gendry sighed before he spoke. “We talked about you. About us.” They continued to walk but Arya wanted to hash this out in one spot, so it didn’t feel like they were running away from another conversation. 

“What did she say, I swear to -” 

“She wanted me to make things right,” he interrupted, and Arya’s brow knit. She hadn’t expected him to say that. What happened that night that he wouldn’t say. He seemed stiff, as though something were holding him back. 

“What? What did she say?” 

“I won’t tell you that,” he replied, jaw set tight. 

“Why?” 

Gendry stopped again, worry in his eyes. “Arya, I love you. I won’t lie to you, but that was something your mother…” he stopped, and even Arya realised the mistake. Whatever happened that night made him comfortable enough to not refer to her by her title. Part of it made Arya scared. The other felt proud that he were as welcome as any other person. “ - the queen confided in me. She wanted it to be between she and I. I want to respect that if I’m going to stay in your life,” he explained, and Arya held her tongue. She had to trust him on this, everything in her told her as much. 

“I understand.” 

Gendry took hold of her hand, fingers lacing with her own, and all she wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. He had a way of making everything normal feel like an extra ounce of magic, that it were so much more special than just being a normal action. They continued to walk, like any other couple in the middle of the night. “You can talk to her, you know,” he said, bringing her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. 

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“You could have told her, like you told your dad. She loves you in a way that your dad doesn’t,” he said, a confidence in his words that she didn’t have. She didn’t understand what happened in their conversation, but it was enough that gave Gendry sympathy for her mother. 

“I know that, but...she’s hard to get to know.” 

“You’d be surprised how similar you both are,” he smiled. Arya tugged at his hand, making him look down at her. 

“Are you being mean?” 

“No? Of course not. I’m just telling you, you don’t have to be afraid of her when you both have the same hearts,” he said,  “how do you think I got the courage to talk to you that night?” 

“A bottle of whiskey?” she scoffed. 

“And two mothers punching me in the head for being an idiot,” he replied, shaking his head with a smile pressed to his lips. 

“Why do you have to say the sweetest shit when we’re out in public?” she groaned, head leaning against his shoulder once more.

“Cause it give you a reason to kiss me extra hard when I leave to go home,” he joked, and Arya pouted, knocking her hip into his. 

“I’m going to kick you first.” 

“I’m sure the kiss will make up for any pain,” he said, and Arya scoffed. They looked at each other with joy, something that Arya was long since gone between them. Everything felt like it was falling back into place, and that breaking the pair apart would be impossible now. 

Arya made good on her promise to kick him, her foot making impact with Gendry’s backside. It wasn’t anything hard - barely a lovetap, but the minute he reacted, Arya shot up into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with every ounce she could. Gendry was right - he won a kiss that was extra hard for being so sweet and she wasn’t able to show it in the moment. Ever since getting back together, Gendry made it a priority to say exactly what he wanted - to say the sappy shit that Arya lied about hating. A part of her loved it - it meant she was like every other girl, to be loved without hesitation, and fully to the point where lines like that worked. Gendry loved her, told her so, and made sure she felt it all. 

Arya never thought she’d feel loved like that. Ever. 

But Gendry made it so easy. He smiled, and kissed, and held her like she deserved so much more than he was giving. In reality, it was always the perfect amount for her. They crashed into a wall, hiding themselves from prying eyes for a brief moment, only to be interrupted by a sharp clearing of a throat close by. They shot apart, wiping their lips clean as they laughed to themselves. At the bottom of the stairs stood the queen, her arms folded, and Arya felt a blush run over her cheeks. She knew most of her siblings had been caught in a similar situation, but it was never something that had happened to Arya. It felt like she were experiencing things as she should. 

“Goodnight, Gendry.” The Queen was stern and Gendry bowed to her, briefly stealing another kiss from Arya before he bowed to the queen once more. 

“Goodnight, your majesty,” he said, backing away from her.

“You’re being polite again,” she called out. Gendry stopped, laughing as he combed a hand through his hair. 

“Yes, sorry, Catelyn,” he said, and Arya nearly gasped, looking back at her mother with shock. To her surprise, the queen smirked, shaking her head at his words. 

“Still the queen, bodyguard!” she bellowed and Arya stood in shock for a few more moments before she finally walked over to her mother. Arya shifted out of her wig and looked to her mother. 

“What was that all about?”

“What?” 

“Ok, you’re being weird now,” she replied to her mother’s coy nature. 

“Invite him to dinner,” she said in return, making Arya confused. 

“What?” 

“Invite Gendry to family dinner tomorrow night,” she said, but it was not lost on Arya that the next day would be Arya and Gendry’s last day as protector and protectee. “I would like for him to be a part of family events from now on. In private or public, however you wish,” Catelyn replied, smiling before she pulled her robe in tighter, tucking herself together before she went to go up the stairs once more. 

“Thank you, mum,” Arya said. Catelyn stopped, turning to her daughter.

“Always, sweetheart. Always,” she said, smile sweet and wonderful. 

“Can we have lunch tomorrow? I want to talk to you,” Arya called out, her mother the one now confused out of the pair. 

“About what, darling?” 

“My life, if that isn’t too inconvientant?” Arya questioned. Like Gendry said, Arya should have trusted her mother the same way she trusted her dad. She knew there was still a ways to go between them, but if what Gendry said was true, that she fought for the two of them to be together, she should have trusted that her mother always had her best interests at heart. 

“Of course not, I’d love to,” Catelyn said, smiling so wide, it was such a foreign look that Arya had never seen her mother make. It was a type of joy that was reserved for her father, not for Arya, and it felt like a blessing to get it. 

The pair walked up the stairs together, planning their lunch for the following day, perfectly at peace with one another. It felt right, to be in such a radiant glow, and for a moment, she wondered if she and her mother shared the same light, but they were so enamoured with their own to see how brightly the other shined. 

The next day came in, and where Arya thought she’d get to spend the day with her boyfriend for whatever time she could, he was whisked away to run down his new position. They were sure he’d switch back as soon as a few of Robb’s different press tours were over with, but it still hurt that she didn’t get to spend more time with him. Instead, Arya dressed for her lunch with her mother, held in the queen’s quarters, her own formal dining area in the palace, one that Arya had only been in a few times before. 

Their lunch went smoothly, a few jokes passed between them to Arya’s surprise. They were able to speak of Arya’s life, how she felt overwhelmed about most things, especially with the organisations and being the face of those things. Also how she felt about Gendry, from start to finish, she was honest with her mother about how she felt. She left out the night they got together...or the night before. It would have stunted the conversation, she could tell. 

After that, her mother told her about the things she was working on. It was honest and rather funny to find that her mother didn’t particularly like doing certain royal activities but was forced to in order to seem like a giving queen. She was rather shy, she only warmed to certain people, Catelyn confessed, but she found that opening herself up more was feeling a lot more freeing than she once anticipated. 

After that, Arya went to her room, going over notes that were sent to her for a meeting she had with a few different organisation to form the gym or gym programs that would help what Arya was aiming to do. It was hard to sift through it all, as Arya felt like she was going cross-eyed, but she eventually found her way to getting through them and sending back her own notes to all parties. When she was done, it was late afternoon and everyone was running about, getting ready for dinner that would soon be put on the table. 

Arya got a text from Gendry and she raced down the stairs, finding him at the bottom in a casual dress outfit, like he were taking Arya into town. He looked nice, but not at all too formal for their family dinners. Which had just occurred to Arya that she never spoke to him about it. As she reached him, pressing a kiss to his lips delicately before she sighed. 

“So,” she started, “you heard.”

He gave a soft shrug, taking hold of her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and they walked slowly to the dining hall. “You dad texted me, which I didn’t realise I had your dad's number, but that’s a different conversation.” Arya laughed, holding his hand tighter.

“You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Gendry smiled, kissing at her crown. As they walked through the doors, the family had already gathered around, taking their seats and enjoying each other’s company. As the pair walked in, Gendry gripped at her hand, a slight hitch in his breath as he stood blankly for a moment. 

“Hey Gendry!” Sansa greeted, bounding towards them and tugging the pair into respective hugs. Gendry smiled, though Arya could still tell he was nervous for all of this. He knew he were the main attraction to the night’s event, but it would be his first and last night in the spotlight. 

“Hey everyone,” he greeted, waving politely to the family that screamed back hellos - save for the king and queen, which Arya expected. When Ned sat down at the end of the table, everyone followed. Arya sat down next to Sansa, and Gendry stood for a moment at the seat beside her. 

“Sit down, dummy,” she whispered, jabbing a finger in his leg. 

“Right, sorry. Used to standing when you guys are eating,” he laughed, sitting down next to her, sighing out his nerves, though when she looked at his thigh, his leg was obviously jumping. Putting a hand on his thigh, she felt him relax. As they settled, their meal was brought out, everyone leaning over each other to reach for their desired sampling. 

“Welcome to the fray outsider! How does it feel to sit at a table full of pompous assholes,” Ygritte said.

“Ygritte,” Jon warned. 

“Jon, look at your family for a second and tell me which of them isn’t snickering under their breaths?” Arya glanced around, seeing her siblings laughing to the side as they tried to bite into their meals. 

“Is there a club for us outsider Starks? Those that join?” Gendry asked, taking a forkful of food into his mouth. He had certainly calmed down some since being around them for much longer than an introduction. 

“You’re called Stark wannabes by us,” Rickon confessed over a mouthful of food. When the table went silent, he looked up and mumbled, “was I not allowed to tell him?”

“I’m guessing you and Talisa got most of this already?” Gendry laughed. Ygritte and Talisa looked to one another and shrugged back. 

“Fun to finally have a lad to poke fun at. They’ve been rather sensitive about us ladies,” Talisa admitted, much to Arya’s surprise. Talisa rarely spoke ill or even so much as spoke at family dinners. Now, she seemed like once she was part of the family, she was beautifully a Stark. 

“I’m used to dating her. Family can’t be much worse,” Gendry said, to which some of her siblings snickered. 

“I’d say we’re only getting started, but Arya added you straight to the group chats, so you know how brutal we are,” Sansa regarded. 

“Wait, he got added before he started dating Arya?! What the fuck Jon!” 

“Can we please not swear at the table,” Catelyn suddenly interrupted before she shook her head, as though she remembered herself, “sorry. Forgot you weren’t my kids. You can keep swearing,” she said, taking a small piece of her meal. 

“Thanks, your majesty,” Ygritte replied.

“Ygritte! You’re about to become a daughter-in-law. You’re allowed to bloody well call me Catelyn.” 

“The queen going off tonight!” Ygritte said with a beaming voice, elbowing Jon in the side, who simply blushed at all of it. He really did hate how wild the family got sometimes. 

“Someone has put a little extra something in mum’s tea,” Bran said as he reached for his drink.

“It was me. You are all insufferable,” Catelyn murmured as she sipped at her tea. Everyone went silent. It took a moment before Ned snorted over his water, snickering to himself as the rest of the family remained stunned. 

“Did mum just make a joke?!” Rickon howled before the table erupted in joy. Gendry grinned at Arya’s side, as though what she had promised him so long ago was now a possibility - her family was his own, in any capacity 

The dinner went off without a hitch, everyone talked and no one was excluded. It felt like a perfect family, all found within each other, even those who had no blood between them. Arya was in her twenties, and it was truly one of the first times where she felt as though she belonged in her family. Sure, she got along with them, and enjoyed spending all her time with them, but it didn’t feel like family. Until Gendry. It felt whole, as though before, there was always a missing piece that she could never quite place. 

Dinner ended, and Gendry walked Arya back to her room. They were slow, as though to drag out the last remaining parts of their time together. It wasn’t until they reached her door that they had a chance to freeze their time together. It still felt all for naught. Instead, Arya held onto his hand, looking up at him with a pout, trying not to feel as sad as she looked, but that too was for nothing. 

“I don’t want this to be the last night you’re my bodyguard,” she admitted. Gendry laughed, tucking hair behind her ear.

“I’ll always be yours,” he reminded.

“Ew, why do you make it sound so gross,” Arya said, smiling even though she wanted to act tough. 

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Gendry said, jokingly pulling away. Arya tugged him back, making sure he stayed where he was. Arya walked backwards into her room, dragging Gendry with her. 

“Nope. You’re mine. I get to keep you however long I want,” she said. Gendry’s eyes went dark, and Arya knew exactly what it meant.

“How do you want me?” he asked, voice low. It ripped through her, lust feeling like it was pouring from every part of her. Gendry shut the door behind him. 

“Now Gendry, that sounds like something bad,” she whispered. 

“Then you’re getting the right idea,” he smirked, leaning over her and kissing her quickly. He scooped her into his arms as though she were weightless. She curled her legs around his hips, rising to allow their bodies to form against the other. 

They fell around her room, stripping bare, colliding with furniture as they stumbled to the bed. The rest of their night together was spent finding each other in bliss. They found their bodies in sync as they often did in her bed - rolling with one another as they let each dominant side of each other win out. Arya could sit upon his lap, take stride to reach her end, Gendry could hold her hips as he thrust above her. They both came undone and found comfort in her bed as they had done so many times before. 

Arya was laid at his side, holding onto him like she were to hold him for the last time. It wouldn’t be, but every time she left his side, she felt an absence from herself - as though a part of her was missing, split into him to create who they were. She carried a part of him, as he carried a part of her. It would remain that way until they were together, entangled in sheets. 

As she watched him sleep, curling himself around her, his arms holding her like a vice, not allowing her an inch to escape, she couldn’t help but love the feeling. Trapped in his embrace, she didn’t want him any other. They were their own selves, hidden from sight, and Arya loved that. She’d always love that, the secret nature of their love - not that no one knew, but no one could understand the love they shared for one another, even if they knew the pair were together. 

“Stop staring, would ya. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, surprising her. She thought he was asleep. 

“You say that, but you left after a night like this,” she reminded him. Gendry peeked through one eye to look at her. 

“You’d have to kill me to get me away from you again,” he said, voice groggy, his arms tiring around her.  

“You really think you’re going to stay with me for the rest of your life?” she asked with a slight giggle to her words. 

“If the Gods allow it, oh you bet your ass,” he said confidently. Arya smiling, tucking herself in further into his embrace. 

“I love you,” she said, finally resting her eyes.

“Love you too. Now go to sleep,” he said, though she needed little prompting. 

 

*~*~*

 

Since Gendry had started with Robb, two weeks after the dinner, Gendry had been welcomed fairly easily by the other members of his team. He had spent little time with the prince himself, but Gendry expected as much. 

As for that day, it was a special event, something to do with kingdom communication that was being announced throughout the seven kingdoms. Gendry didn’t quite care about them, but it meant a bigger role for him to play when the prince was on stage. 

Fixing up his tie, the prince came out of his bathroom. He was wearing a navy suit, and it certainly complimented his appearance for the day. 

“Your Highness. Good morning,” Gendry greeted. Robb looked over to Gendry and he gently smiled. 

“I’m glad you’re on my team today,” Robb said, though because he hadn’t spent much time with the prince, gendry wasn’t sure how truth his statement was. 

“I serve at the pleasure of your highness,” Gendry said, standing at the door and his hands going behind his back. Robb slowly turned to him, a scowl of disgust running over his face. 

“God I hope you don’t say that to my sister,” he said, and Gendry winced. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I’m frank here,” he said, clearing his throat, “but fuck, that is absolutely disgusting to even think about.” 

“So you drew a line?” he asked, fixing the cufflink back into place. 

“If I can remain frank with you,” 

“Sure Frank,” Robb said with a grin. He was definitely going to be a dad one day cause the jokes were on par. 

“Yes. I know when duty outweighs the heart. I respect the crown.”

“You didn’t when you started dating my sister,” Robb reminded. Gendry frowned. 

“Are you  _ mad _ at me?” 

“I’m mad she didn’t tell us, and if I’m taking that out on you, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a stiff nod to her. “I also don’t like the fact that you two stole the light of my wedding, but whatever,” he said under his breath and Gendry scoffed. 

“Arya was right,” he said with a laugh. “You love the sound of your own voice.” 

“I’m your future king, Gendry,” Robb warned. 

“I’m from the South, your highness, you sure as hell aren’t my king,” he said back confidently. To that, Robb laughed, chuckling as he shook his head. 

“I’m just giving you a hard time cause I’m the older brother. Nothing more. I have nothing against you or Arya, and definitely not your relationship. I wish you two all the happiness,” he said. 

“Thank you, your highness,” Gendry replied, trying not to nod like an idiot. 

“Seeing as how you’re dating my sister, you can probably call me Robb,” he said with a soft shrug. 

“Probably?” Gendry scoffed. 

“It’s still weird, please just let me get used to it,” Robb replied.

“That’s fine.” 

With one smile, Robb was off and Gendry was following behind. Robb was in his own world, getting texts that he needed to reply to, as well as people coming up to him to confirm what was going on. It was clear that he had a lot on his plate, and was going to be used to the schedule as the future king. 

“My wife keeps complaining about this grey streak in my bloody hair,” Robb said suddenly over his shoulder. Gendry realised Robb was talking to him, as Jon was at the end of the hall waiting for them. 

“I’m not a stylist or anything, your highness, but from what I’ve seen on the internet, the people really love the streak,” Gendry said. 

“You mean women,” Robb corrected. 

“Yes. Daddy material right there,” Gendry shrugged to which Robb stopped, cackling hard, holding his side.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” he said, clearing his throat and finally they made it to Jon, who informed them both on the day’s schedule and what Gendry needed to know about the venue. 

It was an open event, for as many spectators to see as possible. They had nearly all security pulled, with the family coming as well to keep everyone secure at the same time at the event. Gendry needed to be Robb’s body man to be able to protect him as Jon needed to observe the entire event for any eventuality.  

When they arrived, Gendry didn’t realise how open space Jon meant it to be. It was huge with hundred, if not thousands, of people scattered around. It didn’t allow any room for someone to study every person like a smaller venue could have. It was open air, which meant open opportunity from every conceivable angle.

Anything could go wrong, they were walking into a pit, readying for anything to come and attack. There were so many people, so many enemies, that any of the people in the crowd could be it. Ordinary didn’t mean safe - where normalcy was the binary, the outlier was anyone. There was always a way to tell where someone was feigning it compared to others, that they suddenly were out of place in a crowd. But in a crowd that huge, it was as thought finding a needle in a haystack. 

Even as they walked towards the podium which Robb was meant to speak at, Gendry felt that there was something he was missing. The minute he got there, Gendry felt as though there was something out of place. Everything felt perfect, there was a right amount of security around, there was everything in place. The only thing he could work out was the crowd. 

It was chaotic, with too many people to discern amongst the crowd. Picking one out was going to be impossible. Robb took to the centre of the stage, speaking into the microphone. Gendry stood close by, but he just felt like he needed to find what was bothering him. There was no way to tell, but all he could do was wait. 

Robb continued on, the crowd standing in settled silence. Yet, it wasn’t. There was something…

There was someone...

“Something’s wrong,” he whispered to himself. Sam at his side scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know, I just…” he started, until he saw the gaze of a man in the crowd. It was determined, angry. And he was charging the stage. “Your Highness!” Gendry shouted, getting to the prince’s side, and the gun came out. 

“Down with the seven kingdoms!” The man yelled. Three pops went off quickly. And the crowd scattered, screams erupting as people scrambled for safety. Gendry saw Beric tackle the guy to the ground. 

Gendry had pushed the prince to the side. The prince fell into Jon’s grasp as Gendry was knocked to the ground. The sound had come and gone by the time Gendry hit the floor. Everything came far slower than he realised - his mind and body acting in two different timelines. Either a second apart or a million years, he wasn’t sure. 

It felt like he was punched in the chest, and then the overwhelming need to fall down. When his body started to go, he knew where the bullet had landed. He wasn’t sure the exact location, but it was painful enough to say an approximate; his chest. As he made impact with the ground, he felt the world rush. He wanted to breathe, but that proved to be a challenge. Right. Chest. That’s why. 

He felt up his chest as he stared up at the sky, all he could think about was putting pressure on the pain. Being met with the wet stain on his chest, he knew he would go into shock in a moment. 

“Arry,” he said, before he coughed, something wet touching his lips. 

His hands were a pathetic amount of pressure he was applying, until he felt the pain radiate through his chest. His hands were moved aside, as everything in his vision started to shift, not quite able to focus where he wanted. Then, he was met with Brienne’s face, concern written into her where he could focus on her face. He watched the head of security look him over, hands pushing into the wound on his body, but even that started to feel numb. 

“Gendry? Gendry, can you hear me?” He wanted to answer, but it felt like something was weighing down his chest. He knew what a gunshot felt like - he had enough to know what it felt like - what he wasn’t used to was feeling his lungs fill with blood. He couldn’t breathe, choking on the thing that gave him a pulse. 

Even with people above him, searching for a sign of life, and his eyes darting between them, all he could think about was Arya. 

Arya, in the morning light with white sheets surrounding her, making her look like a gift from the gods. Her hair sat at her shoulder, albeit a big messy, but he wouldn’t have her any other way. She smiled, and it welcomed him, like home. 

Arya was his home, and his last thought before everything went dark. 


	17. Just Want Somebody To Die For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? edit a chapter? unlikely. I'm sorry for all the mistakes.   
> also, I know my breaks between chapters can sometimes be long and very infuriating as a reader, but right now, for my own creative energy, i’ve decided to take a break from cfois. This is only for a short time, but i’m so creatively burnt out that i’m not working on anything. I will update on tumblr and twitter when things are picking back up, but right now i’m sorry you have to wait for more. xx

Arya heard the shots, and when Robb went down, she thought the worst. Until she saw Gendry. He staggered before he eventually fell to the ground. In a moment, Arya saw everything she had held so close slip from her hands. He tried to be a strong man, holding onto his chest, and all she wanted to do was run across the short distance to him to find out what the hell just happened. He was wearing a vest, wasn’t he? How could he go down like that?

Instead, she was whisked away against her better wishes and escorted to their safe point. Throughout the entire car journey, Arya found herself begging to go back, because above everything else, she didn’t want her last memory of the man she loved to be tainted by that touch of blood on his lips as he choked for air. 

In the car, Arya was with Sansa and Bran, her brother in Sandor’s arms as they were told to get to a secure location. She found out later that the reason Sandor was carrying Bran was because once the shots were fired, they didn’t have time to get the chair in the car. They would have to get Bran a new one, as they weren’t sure if the chair would have made it through the chaos of the events. 

It was hard for Arya to concentrate when so many different reports were going around. They were whisked from one place to another, trying to get as much information out of each of them on the attack. Arya found it hard to explain what went wrong. All she remembered was the joy that washed away after she saw Robb get knocked away, but Gendry went down. She was overcome that finding the words to explain what went wrong were so far from who she was in that moment. 

Arya knew she was a pistol - she understood that she was reckless, blazing through her life and shooting through other’s lives like nothing. But in a moment of pure rage, hatred, and grief, she found Jon, who had managed to get the suspect into an interrogation room. When their eyes met, it was as if Jon knew more than Arya. she hadn’t even known how she got there, just that she found them. 

She began to storm past her brother when he caught her arm and dragged her away like it was nothing. Arya fought against him, tearing his hands from her every time he put them back ont.

“Get your hands off of me!” she snarled, wrenching herself away, trying to leap out of his grip until he held onto her by her waist, picking her up and dragging her off. 

“Arya you can’t go in there!” Jon said just as Arya brought an elbow down into his shoulder. He crumbled, letting her go for just a moment, not even enough to let her escape. She hated that he could get her to stay. 

“I deserve to pummel that asshole within an inch of his life!” she roared, trying to pull away. The door was so fucking close, she could almost touch it, but sanity kept her in place. It was her brother’s doing, but it knocked her. “Please Jon, please let me in,” she whimpered, turning back to him. 

“I can’t do that, you know I can’t,” he said, and Arya beat her fists against his chest. It was only a few fists later that her hands hit with less impact, and her heart was lurching into her throat. 

“Arya,” Jon whispered to her, her name a comfort when it came from his lips. 

“My boyfriend and love of my life just got shot. I don’t know if he’d gonna live or not. So please, let me be mad,” she asked in a huff. Jon held her by the bicep, lowering them down to the ground until they completely on the floor. Arya watched as Jon began taking deep breaths, and her having the follow suit. When she was calm, she felt herself become weak, as though her pain was dwindled by her rage. But she didn’t want it to, as when the pain rose, her eyes could spring a leak at any moment and she’d be bawling her eyes out for hours. 

“Let’s go to the hospital.” The words made Arya look up at him. He gave a soft nod of confirmation that he was serious. He’d take her there, not keep her away like everyone else would have. 

Part of her wanted to argue, but the way Jon looked at her, pleaded with her to move an inch for him was enough to get her to nod. From there, it was just following Jon until she felt like she wasn’t going to cry. She could hold it in as long as she followed Jon. That’s what she told herself anyway. 

By the time they got there, Arya found her mother and father were talking with a doctor. Arya and Jon ran to them - well, more so, Arya ran to them, Jon was just keeping up. Catelyn draped her arm over Arya’s shoulder, holding her close and kissing her forehead. 

“The prince is just fine. A few scraps and bruises, but nothing serious,” the doctor explained, as though this would have been his second or third time doing so, it was just more family coming to explain to. 

“And the bodyguard?” Arya questioned. The doctor then looked at her, sorrowful eyes that wouldn’t let her heart not break. With a sigh, the doctor pointed to two parts of his torso; one finger pressed to his side, along where his kidneys were, the other pointed at his heart. 

“He was hit three times. Two hit his side, but the one that made impact with his chest was the one that cause the most damage. We’d be surprised if he felt the two to the side without how brutally the third went through him.” 

“He was wearing a vest wasn’t he?” She’d kill him if he hadn’t - stupid, reckless bullheaded asshole. 

“If he hadn’t worn the vest, the bullet at his chest would have gone straight through him instead of how it landed. The possibility that it ripped through his heart and lungs would have been greater than the position of the bullets. He’s still in surgery, so we won’t know his condition for some time, we suggest waiting where you’re comfortable.” 

With that, the doctor gave one final nod, taking the family to Robb who was secluded amongst other patients. From the corner of Arya’s eye, she saw the other patients all gossiping and wondering what happened until the news interrupted programs on the waiting room tvs. Every second of her life was on display for the world’s consumption, and part of Arya felt like shattering. 

“I have to call Tailya. Has anyone called her yet?” Arya suddenly realised, looking around. Jon looked at her, giving her a soft shrug. 

“Not that I know of,” Jon said. 

“I should call her,” Arya said, hands roaming over her form to try and find her phone. Was it even in her pockets or did she have a purse that she completely forgot about. Jon suddenly took Arya’s wrist, taking her to sit amongst the others in the waiting room, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her. 

“Arya, maybe I should. Why don’t I get dad so he can -” 

“Can you get mum?” she interrupted. Jon stood, hand to her cheek. 

“Yeah. Of course,” he said, phone pressed to his ear, leaning down and kissing her crown. “Yes, am I speaking with Tailya Waters? It’s Jon Snow from the palace. I’m sorry I have some…” Jon left before Arya could catch more of his words. Arya’s heart broke for Tailya. It wasn’t like she could have foreseen this happening, or even if she did, she hated that Tailya had to get that call. Part of her wished she’d made the call, but she knew if she’d talked to his mother, she could have very well come apart at the seams. 

With Jon gone and her mother at her side, Arya held onto her hand, keeping herself calm. Catelyn was patient until she was beckoned away. The pair didn’t wish to part, but Arya knew her mother’s responsibility to the public and said it was fine. Once she was alone again, Arya was left with her thoughts - the ones that festered and fed into the notion that she was bound to loneliness for the rest of her life. 

It took an hour before she saw Gendry. He was wheeled out and into a seperate room. Arya rushed to the doctor that she had seen before, taking his arm and his attention in one moment. 

“How he is?” Arya asked, not caring how ridiculous or desperate she looked. She just needed to know more than seeing the man she loved lying in a bed. She hadn’t even gotten a proper look at him, she just knew it was him. The doctor took a moment, looking over to Gendry’s room before he sighed, combing back his hair 

“He’s stable for now. There was a lot of damage, but we think he’s been through the worst of it,” he said, though he extended a hand to her shoulder, almost in warning, not to give hope a chance of latching in her chest, “we’ll need to monitor him for the next few days.” Arya gave a nod before she looked at the door.  

She wanted to look in, but couldn’t bring herself to. Everything in her told her not to look - she wasn’t the same Arya she thought she was when it came to Gendry. Every day she was the tough, unbeatable woman that the world rallied behind for being an outrageous royal princess. But with him, all she was, was a woman that loved a man, simply in love. And all she could do was shatter when he was broken.

“I don’t understand how a goddamn bullet got through a bulletproof vest,” Arya said, pacing across the length of Gendry’s door. Jon stood close by, her parents and Robb having left an hour before. 

“It was a combat weapon. They’re designed to do the most impact, including going through bulletproof vests. Like the doctor said, if he hadn’t worn that, it would have torn up his insides and we’d be having a different conversation,” 

“I’m Tailya Waters, I’m just trying to -” 

“Tailya! Over here!” Arya called. Tailya perked when seeing her, rushing over and seeing that the door was right behind her. Upon the two seeing each other, Jon gave a simple nod and left the pair. 

“I want to see him,” Tailya asked. Arya hurried a nod, showing her the door. As Tailya moved past her, Arya turned - maybe it was the freedom of an open door that had her scared - that she’d jump inside and never leave. “Sweetheart?” she said before Arya looked up. With her hand extended, Tailya gave a tender smile. Arya took it and guided them both into the room. Upon seeing him, Tailya whimpered, gripping harder into Arya’s shaking hand. 

As always, Arya remained strong, but had to admit, once seeing Gendry hooked up to all those machines, she almost fell to the ground. Taking Tailya to Gendry’s bedside, his mother gripped tight to his hand as Arya went around to the other side, combing the hair out of his face, just to see him. Gendry didn’t seem like he was in pain, just an uncomfortable sleep. 

Why did it feel like her heart was breaking over everything. 

Suddenly a phone started to ring, making Tailya scramble for her phone in her bag.

“Shit, why now?” Tailya said with a sniffle in her voice. In a moment she was gone, leaving Arya alone with Gendry. He was defenseless, a man bound to his sleep, living through a pain that he never asked for. 

Arya couldn’t help it, she burst into tears, holding him with all her might. He didn’t touch her or budge as she held onto his sleeping form, and it only made her cry the harder. She didn’t care who saw her, or even if it was published in all the papers. She just wanted to hold him until he held her back. At this rate, however, there wasn’t a likely chance of that happening. As her tears dried up, Tailya coming back, Arya sat back down next to him, holding onto his hand as his mother held his other. 

Tailya explained that she had to leave the pub abruptly, which meant her regulars were phoning in to find out the news, so every time she got a call, Arya sat by her, holding her hand and making sure she was ok. It the least she could do without taking the calls herself. It wasn’t like Arya could say much to them either. 

On Arya’s end, she was called by Sansa every few hours. Even when she should have been asleep, Sansa phoned, checking up on both of them. Arya didn’t know exactly what happened between Gendry and Sansa in the short time they were paired together, but they became close enough that Sansa considered him a friend. It warmed Arya’s heart in the past - now it felt like it was breaking because Sansa may lose a friend she only just scarcely had. 

The next morning, once she had stretched out her back from the uncomfortable armchair she slept in, Arya found her phone, texting the group on Gendry’s condition and letting them know that she’d loved to be cheered up, in spite of the pain she was feeling.

By 7am, her family had conjured a smile from her. 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**7:03am - Bran** : wow, john mulaney foresaw the events of the day

**7:05am - Rickon:** bruh the tax payers paid for that :(((

**7:05am - Rickon:** that wheelchair is worth more than bran is

**7:06am - Sansa:** hes like 8th in line for the throne we can afford to lose him

**7:07am - Bran:** i am DISABLED

**7:07am - Bran:** and still i get fucking dragged 

**7:10am - Jon:** is it sad that my first thought was ‘you get dragged everywhere anyway’

**7:10am - Bran:** JONATHAN! 

**7:11am - Jon:** please don’t use my full name 

**7:12am - Sansa:** nice burn, but Jon you don’t have a name, you gave one to yourself cause you were lonely

**7:13am - Jon:** I thought we were making fun of Bran, not me

**7:13am - Sansa:** no one is safe 

Arya looked through her phone, laughing as she felt tears fill her eyes. It made it harder to see, but she didn’t care. It was the only thing keeping her happy when the man she loved remained in a bed with machines hooked up to him. It wasn’t what he deserved, but he had put his life in danger before. He worked hard to be good at what he did - he protected Robb, but at the cost of his life. It was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do - wait to see if he’d ever wake up. They weren’t sure, it wasn’t even clear if he’d ever fully recover. 

Over the course of a few days, Gendry was unhooked from machines, able to breathe on his own, it was just a waiting game until he woke up. The doctors were happy with his stitches, and could see if he woke up he’d have no complications. It was just the waiting that was killing Arya.

It had been nearly a week since Gendry had been admitted to the hospital. His mum found it hard to take herself away from work, and every time she visited, she’d end up crying and having to leave. Arya understood. Most days, she’d go into the bathroom to steal away her cries so no one would know. Everything was sacred in that room - all secrets she whispered to him were kept in that room like they had done in her bed so many countless times. 

In the meantime, the tv played, endless shows that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Arya flicked through her phone, going through some emails as a show began with ridiculous music. 

“It’s sunday so you all know what that means! It’s time for the North daily's which heartthRobb is it?”

Arya scoffed at the name, the music getting dramatic, and for a split second, Arya got interested. Picking up her phone, taking a video of the events that unfolded.

“Here we have a picture of Robb or Richard at yet another event from this week. So Shyen, our chosen audience member, you know the rules.” 

“I can’t believe this is a real fucking show,” Arya whispered, her hands shaking as she laughed. 

“Tell us which heartthrobb it is, and you'll win this weeks prize of a $1000 gift voucher to leading supermarket Winter's Harvest.” 

On the screen flashed a picture that Arya had to legitimately question whether or not it was her brother or not. It could have been Robb or Richard, as they both decided to sport that stupid grey streak in their hair. Arya contemplated, almost guessing but faltered at the last second. 

“Robb. I’d know his dumb head anywhere.” It was like the hum of a drum that echoed around the room. Arya shot her attention from the screen to the sleeping man beside her, but instead of a calm man who had just been shot, she saw a gorgeous smile that looked weak but utterly happy. She dropped her phone in an instant. 

“Gendry!” she yelled, throwing herself over him, only pulling back once she heard him wince. “Don’t you ever do that again,” Arya warned him, watching as he chuckled. She couldn’t help herself - she surged forward, stealing the smile from his lips and making it hers upon her own. When he sighed against her, Arya cried, a breath of life she hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to have again. His tired arms came around her, pulling her onto the bed, both holding onto each other with every ounce of love they could spare in that moment. 

 

*~*~*

 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

**8:46pm - Bran:** did you guys see how fucking fast she dropped her phone when she realised he woke up? That was iconic 

**8:47pm - Ygritte** : kinda romantic

**8:48pm - Robb** : ygritte? In this chat? 

**8:49pm - Ygritte** : this is jon typing 

**8:50pm - Sansa** : now that I believe 

**8:51pm - Jon** : Ygritte is in another country, you guys know this! 

**8:52pm - Rickon** : jon stop lying, we know you have ygritte’s phone! 

**8:53pm - Jon** : i hate you guys 

 

*~*~*

 

Out of all the things about being shot Gendry hated, it was mostly having to stay in his fucking bed. The hospital was small and made him feel like he was going to kick at the end and break the goddamn bed was sleeping in. The food sucked too but it was a hospital so he didn’t complain as much. 

What he did like, though, was the fact that Arya kissed him more than she ever had before. It was him that usually had to steal kisses when she wasn’t looking. Now, it was Arya that just interrupted him mid sentence to just kiss him. He didn’t know how much he worried her, but it must have hurt her. He hated that he had done it again, without even meaning to. He understood his role as a bodyguard, and it was always to put himself in between danger and his protectee. 

When he was home, he liked it a hell of a lot more than the hospital room. He liked the simplicity of his home, even if he had to keep packing for his new place. When Pod could, he came by and helped Gendry pack, but they weren’t exactly the most efficient pair around each other. 

Then, he got an unusual call. Gendry wasn’t sure what to make of it. He still had a ways to go for recovery, but the palace had called and asked for him to come in, he didn’t know what to make of it. They gave vague instructions, so he followed them the next day. 

With a tight breath, he walked into the palace. He felt like he wasn’t walking straight, and constantly felt the need to hold his side as though it were going to burst open a stitch or something. When he saw the stairs, true fear set in, because there was a very likely chance he’d pop something on the ascent. 

“Gendry!” A voice yelled, echoing around the foyer. Without even a second to think or brace himself, Arya had collided with him, arms around his neck and hanging onto him for dear life.  The pair struggled to stay on their feet, but Gendry didn’t care when he could hear the playful giggles of his girlfriend. For a moment, he was glad he could hold her amidst the pain, he just wanted to be bound to her from that day on. 

As she fell from his embrace, he held onto his side and she hissed as though she recognised her mistake once out his grip. Then, with her hand on his cheek, he felt like a weightless fool, bending down to her, their foreheads pressing to one another. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?” she asked with hope in her breath. It wasn’t like she saw him every day without fail, but she asked every day. 

“I’m doing fine. A little fragile but I expected that,” he explained, smiling to here. As she parted from him, she looked him over as though seeing him standing there was particularly an amazing feat. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her smile spreading wider. 

He gave a shrug - or something he should have called a shrug if one of his shoulders wasn’t as lame as it currently was. “Robb asked me to stop by.” 

It was like this family was tuned into the front door opening, because the next thing Gendry saw was Robb rushing down the stairs as casually as someone could rush down stairs. Maybe the family was unused to visitors that anyone coming inside was a treat. Or someone could have told them in some way. Gendry never told Arya about people stopping by, but he was usually told. Maybe it was through those channels. 

“Gendry! Gods, it’s good to see you.” Robb smiled before he embraced Gendry. It was a tender thing, as though he knew he couldn’t hold Gendry as tightly as someone who had saved his life should have been embraced. But Gendry didn’t mind. He loved the Starks, and although he wasn’t terribly big on affection - he didn’t mind it with them.

“You’re only saying that cause I didn’t die.” Gendry gauged Robb’s reaction, realising he wasn’t only speaking to Arya. To his surprise, Robb chuckled, slapping Gendry’s shoulder.  

“Saved my life, man. I can’t thank you enough,” he said, and Gendry had some doubts it would be the last time. 

“What’s this all about?” 

“I wanted to explain what happened, and why you were hurt,” Robb said, his tone getting serious, hands in his pockets as he explained. 

“Alright,” Gendry nodded, turning to Arya, taking her hand, kissing at her knuckles. “I’ll see you later, ok?” he asked. Arya stepped up, kissing Gendry briefly. 

“Love you, don’t let him kick you around,” he smiled, allowing Arya to steal yet another kiss from his lips. 

Gendry walked up the stairs slowly beside Robb, who explained what his schedule was, and that things were going to get more chaotic than he wants it to be, but he couldn’t stop it. Gendry had always been on the outside of their schedule, and knew that it took a lot out of everyone to be someone with the utmost authority. It was often for them to be more comfortable around other royals as it was a chance to breathe. 

There were only a select few people that the royals were comfortable being informal around. Gendry was luck to be one of them, with the entire family it seemed. Especially in such a short time. Their security and palace staff were an exception, but they were considered as much part of the Stark household as any other. 

 

Once inside Robb’s office, Gendry took a seat, and groaned once his body had relaxed into it. He wasn’t sure how long the pain would last, but it didn’t seem to be giving up any time soon. As he got comfortable, Robb sat down next to Gendry instead of across from him like he anticipated. 

“So,” Robb started, giving himself a moment before he continued, as though the words were there, but somehow hard to find. “I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am. I’m not sure to saying thank you to people who save my life,” he said, and Gendry shook his head, reaching over and gripping Robb’s shoulder. 

“It must be a very foreign feeling, I’m sure,” he said. 

“Dude, I wish you’d drop the formal shit for a second,” Robb scoffed. 

“Ok,” Gendry laughed, before he took his own breath - finding words that were there but somehow not. Instead, he played it off as best he could. “Robb, I don’t want me taking a bullet for you to be some sort of sign that I might like or even...respect you.” 

“Fuck you,” Robb blurted before he cracked into a giant smile. “I’m serious though, you risked your life for me and I can’t thank you enough for it,” he said.

“Just doing my job.” 

Then, as much as they had been messing around, it seemed like Robb realised his place. He stood and walked around the desk. “The guy we got talked almost instantly. We found out he was from a fringe group known as the faceless men. They were set on dismantling the seven kingdoms. There were many attacks all on the same day. We think their main goal was to cause as much chaos as possible and divide the kingdoms, break us apart. Killing me wouldn’t have made the North crumble. I have like twelve siblings,” he said, sitting down, chuckling but still remained somewhat solemn. 

“Are you doing ok?” gendry asked. 

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Talisa slapped me for scaring her, but other than that I’m good,” he shrugged, his hand going to his mouth as his elbow met the table, as though he were thinking of something else. Gendry had his suspicions. 

“Ever since waking up, Arya has been scaring me more than a gunman does,” Gendry admitted. 

“Why? Too much?” Robb asked with a softer voice, as though Arya would walk in and hear what they were saying. 

“She just fucking clocks me every time she sees me,” Gendry said, smirk on his lips. 

“She punches you?” Robb asked with a furrowed brow. 

“No! She hugs me like her life depends on it, and I’ve got like...bullet wounds in me. I’m never going to heal at this rate,” he said, and the two laughed, shaking their head at the ridiculousness of their Arya. 

“She loves you. If she didn’t hug you like her life depends on it, you’re not worth it for her,” Robb reminded. 

“I know,” he confirmed, though he didn’t need to be reminded. 

“We’re having a big meeting with the other kingdoms. You won’t need to get to know any of them, but I’m sure some of them would like to meet you, if that’s ok?” Robb informed, and Gendry was a little taken back. He hadn’t been so included in an event like this before. He was always on the sidelines, but now Gendry was thrust into the limelight. 

“That’s fine. When is it?” Gendry played off his nerves, but he felt them , the anxiousness in his chest still there in spite of his calm appearance. 

“In a few days, we’ll make sure that everything is in order. As you won’t be staff, but a special guest, we’ll send through details,” Robb smiled, and Gendry smiled back. Standing and taking a step forward to shake Robb’s hand. 

“Thanks,” he said, and as they shook each other’s hand there was a thought popped up at the back of his mind, and he had to question it. “Uh,” he started, taking a step back and putting his hands behind his back. “Will King Robert be there?” 

“So far he’s said yes, so I suspect so,” Robb said with a nod, and went back to his work, not questioning Gendry’s enquiry. 

With a breath, Gendry left Robb’s office and wandered the halls to go back to the room where he spent most of his time. Before he even managed to get there, his spitfire of a girlfriend found him first, holding onto his arm and guiding them back to her room. He explained the situation, and then the wandering thought that greeting people would work a hell of a lot better if he had any idea of who all the royals were. 

In Arya’s room, lying on her bed and his head in her lap, he tried to rattle off all the people he knew from memory. It wasn’t great, but he was trying. “So, Dany, Drogo, Lannisters, Robert,” Gendry stopped once the memory of the one family he knew was gone, the thought pressing to his temple but lost so quickly. “Ah fuck, who else will be there?” he cursed. Arya’s fingers were in his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Do you want me to quiz you?” she said with a little laugh in her voice. 

Looking up at her, watching as she smiled so tenderly, he wanted to remain angry at his inability to remember anything, but just told her his frustrations. “Look, I didn’t even know the royals I was coming to work for, Arry, how am I meant to know other fucking kingdoms?” 

“Ok, so we’ll start with the easy ones. Daenerys Targaryen, queen of the crownlands. Tywin Lannister rules over The Westerlands,” 

“You’re already going too fast,” Gendry huffed, covering his face. 

“I heard something about a quiz!” A voice beamed, followed by the flare of red hair that came barrelling into the room and onto Arya’s bed. 

“Why did you invite her?” Gendry groaned, just as Sansa moved over him, face wide with a devilish smile. 

“I invited everyone,” Arya admitted, and Gendry shut his eyes. He sat up, resigned to the fate that was about to become his life. 

“Oh god, let’s just go to the dining room and roast me on a spit,” he said, taking Arya’s hand and Sansa got on the group chat, everyone eventually meeting down in the dining room. Gendry sat with Arya, the two of them studying to help him as the family gathered. In the end, every member of the family was there, chairs all set up against the wall like a true audience, where Gendry was put on display as Bran sat in his chair, wheeling himself around as he went through flashcards with Arya occasionally to see if Gendry would be able to answer everything. 

When everything was set up, Gendry was forced to sit in his chair in front of the family as Bran came over, and for the first time since getting in the dining room, he noticed what Bran was wearing. It immediately made Gendry roll his eyes. Of course this fucking family…

In a bright purple blazer that was shimmering when it caught the light, it was just as overtop as Gendry should have expected from Bran. Well, from the Starks in general. 

“Ok! Welcome to the Stark Royal Quiz night! Our contestant for this evening is Gendry Waters, a known royal idiot that can’t pick out a Stark from a Tully!” he announced, sending the family into a round of giggles. Gendry rolled his eyes. 

“I hate this, I really fucking hate this,” he groaned, covering his eyes. 

“Come on Gendry! You’ve got this!” Talisa yelled. Gendry cracked a smile, shaking his head. 

“Take your top off!” Rickon yelled. 

“Stop objectifying my boyfriend,” Arya spat back. 

“Please this is a family show,” Catelyn said, and the room erupted. 

“Wish you’d told me that a year ago,” Ygritte said, drinking her beer as she winked over to Gendry. He frowned as Jon spat out a laugh, one that he hadn’t realised was going to come out. His fiancee was certainly a funny one. But Gendry had learnt that very quickly. Ygritte wasn’t afraid to be herself, even when it came to the royals around her. 

“Now, Gendry, please tell us more about yourself,” Bran said, offering his hand over like he had a microphone. 

“Are you serious right now?!” 

“Tell us! Tell us!” The family - save the two parents amongst the group - roared back at him. 

“You guys need to get a life,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning into Bran’s hand. “I’m Gendry Waters and I hate this,” he said. 

“Good enough!” Bran said quickly, turning away and pandering back to his family. “What category will we start with?” 

“Why are there categories now?” Gendry shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Because fuck you that’s why!” he said, “So! Family, name, lands, or other!” 

“Please just ask me questions, this is going to kill me,” Gendry said, throwing his head back. 

“Ok, fine, have it your way,” Bran said, an obvious huff of irritation in his voice. “Even with the seven kingdoms, there are some that are not connected to the mainland,” Bran started, and Gendry frowned. 

“Isn’t there only one? Essos?” he replied. 

There was a long pause, the family all huddled together as though they were judging Gendry’s answer. Then, they all turned to Bran. “You are correct! It was a trick question. Bonus points for the ruler of that kingdom,” he said, waiting for Gendry to answer. 

“Dothraki. Specifically Khal Drogo,” Gendry finished. 

“Off to a great start!” Bran said. 

After that, it was entertainment for the rest of the family, who drank and laughed and roared in approval at all of Gendry’s answers, even when they were wrong. Gendry got into it as much as the rest of them, the answers feeling like second nature, but he still got frustrated when the answer was wrong. 

“No, I swear to fuck it’s the Martells!” Gendry challenged in a shout. 

“No, Dothraki! Next question,” Bran played off. 

“Oh come the fuck on!” Gendry huffed, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded. 

“It’s ok, Martell’s would be honoured you thought so highly of them!” Talisa joked, much to the family's surprise. Robb leaned over to his wife, kissing at her cheek. For a moment, so singular and special, Gendry wondered if that would be him one day - happily married to the woman that he loved. 

Bran came shooting in with another question. “Which family….has some relation to the Stark family?” There was a pause in the room, waiting for him to answer. 

“Uh fuck, ok, I know this,” Gendry said, holding up his hand, trying to think. 

“You have ten seconds,” Bran said quickly, which shot Gendry’s attention back to him. 

“No I don’t, there isn’t a time on this thing,” he reminded, as they hadn’t been playing with any sort of time limit throughout the other questions asked that evening. 

“Five seconds,” Bran said again. 

“Tully! Tully! It’s the Tully family!” Gendry shouted, purely out of gut instinct.

“That is…” Bran teased, “ _ correct _ ! The matriarch of the Stark family, Catelyn Stark, was once known as Catelyn Tully. Please take a bow,” Bran said, and much to the amazement of the room, Catelyn stood, doing her best bow and settling back into her chair. “Now, who will be attending on behalf of the Tully family on Sunday night?” 

“Jon Arryn?” Gendry said, unsure. The Riverlands were a strange area, as they were once run by the Tully’s before it was passed to another family through a strange number of circumstances.

“Yes!” Bran said, before he grimaced. “Who will unfortunately bring our cousin Robin, but that’s a different day,” Bran said, to which all of the siblings laughed. 

“Bran,” she warned, “at least it isn’t Edmure,” Catelyn remarked. Edmure often tried to be more than just a king, which led him to be an absent king and give his title to Jon Arryn. 

“Ha! God, I hate that bastard,” Ned chuckled to himself. 

“I get to make fun of my brother, you don’t,” she warned her husband with a jab in the ribs. 

Bran then wheeled around the front of the crowd of his family quickly, doing a little stunt to draw everyone’s attention to him. 

“Ok! Lightning round! Man all the people coming on sunday and the Kingdoms they preside over!” He shot out his question and Gendry knew he had to answer fast. He sat up straight, gripping hard to his knees. 

“Tywin Lannister, Westerlands. Daenerys Targaryn, Crownlands. Khal Drogo, Essos. Jon Arryn, Riverlands,” he started, stopping himself as he thought. “Ok gimme a second!” he shouted as the family began to laugh and get more into the quiz. “Oberyn Martell, Dorne? You guys, so Ned Stark, The North. Robert Baratheon, Stormlands.” He finished, making sure he listed everyone by counting it down on his hand. It felt right, but he waited before Bran shouted out. 

“Yes!” 

“Wow, he got that quicker than Jon,” Sansa laughed, sipping at her gin, the one that she had been consistently drinking over the course of the night. 

“One family event, I just want one family event where I’m not emotionally traumatised,” Jon shouted as everyone started to pack up for the night. As soon as the family started to move, it gave Gendry a chance to breathe, and Arya moved to him, taking him by the hand and linking their fingers together. 

“Oh darlin, that’s never going to happen,” Ygritte said. 

“Your future wife fits right in,” Robb said. 

“Also! Why haven’t you guys told everyone!” Ygritte said quickly, jumping over to Talisa and Robb.

“Gendry was shot! Arya wasn’t exactly with it, you know?” he confessed. Gendry and Arya looked at each other. 

“What news?” Arya asked. She held tight to his hand, but he was about to have his suspicions confirmed. 

“Robb and Talisa are -” 

“No way!” Sansa shouted, covering her mouth and jumping over to her brother and his wife. 

“You guys aren’t!” Arya said next. 

“We’re expecting!” Talisa said with an excited giggle. It felt heartening that Gendry was included in such an announcement with the family. 

“Holy fuck I’m gonna be the cool uncle!” Bran shouted. 

“Why can’t you be the disable uncle and I’m the cool uncle?” Rickon said, to which Bran shot him a look. “Yeah that’s fair,” he said, and everyone chuckled at the resignation of him. As the family congratulated the couple, Gendry and Arya walked down the stairs slowly, finding their way to the staff entrance, and sneaking away from the family. 

Gendry pulled away, ready to go to his car, when Arya tugged hard on his hand. “Hey,” she said, stopping him and pulling him back to her. 

“I should get home,” he reminded Arya. She sighed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up towards him. 

“I love you,” she confessed, as though it were the first time. Gendry smiled, leaning down to her, stealing a kiss from her lips.

“I love you too,” he replied, kissing her once more. 

“Thank you for dealing with my family tonight,” she replied, letting them sway back and forth. Ever since he was shot, Arya was far more open about her feelings, he found. She said everything she needed to - and although they were doing so before, Arya wasn’t afraid to confess that she was desperately in love with him. He felt the same all the time. 

“I love your family. Even though they embarrass me,” he shrugged. Arya laughed, cupping his cheek. 

“That’s what family is for,” she reminded. 

“Feels like home,” Gendry confessed, feeling far too open for a moment. He wanted to tell Arya...say more than he had, but it was hard. How was he meant to say what he needed to when it meant revealing far too much of what he saw. 

“Feels more like home when you’re there,” Arya said, a flash of red running over her cheeks. He wondered if they wanted the same things, or if he was fooling himself. He didn’t wish to get scared of their future, just hopeful of where it would lead. Fear could wait for another day, he reasoned. 

“I should go,” he reminded, kissing her one last time, hands slipping from hers. “I love you. Sleep well,” he told her. 

“I will,” she said, hands going behind her back as he walked away, constantly looking over his shoulder at her, “call if something happens,” she shouted. 

“You’ll be my first call, I promise,” he yelled back in return. 

 

***

 

The day came, and Gendry was wearing his best suit. Well, it was new purely because Jon and Robb took him out to get one that was suitable for a royal gathering. Gendry wanted to remind them that Khal Drogo would be there, and his attire wasn’t anything like the royal prince’s, but it would be a fruitless venture. 

He fiddled with his tie as he met with Jon Arryn and Oberyn Martell. They all took photos and thanked him for his service to the crown. They also regarded his bravery, and said his service didn’t go unrecognised, even throughout other kingdoms. Before he was to meet with the Lannisters, Arya came over to him. She was wearing a nice navy suit and a white wilk blouse underneath. She was a fashionable princess thanks much to Sansa for this particular event. 

“Stop fucking with your tie! It’s going to look different in all the pictures,” Arya warned him, straightening out his tie for the fourth time that day. He huffed, before she had to leave and go towards her family for some pictures with the Martells. 

Gendry was sure he’d be seeing the Lannisters next, he was certain of it. Yet, when it came down to it, Gendry felt his heart in his throat when he saw King Robert next. He was stern, almost menacing as he came closer to him. Gendry stood up straighter, trying to be as presentable as possibly. It scared the shit out of him. Then, Robert stopped in front of him. 

“Your majesty,” Gendry greeted, bowing to the king. 

Robert smiled as they came face to face, then, he clapped Gendry on the shoulder. “Good work son, it was very brave of you for doing what you did,” he said, clearing his throat, as though he recognised Gendry for a moment but couldn’t place him. 

“Thank you,” Gendry replied. The two stared at one another before Robert moved, turning on his heels and shouting as he saw Ned. Gendry met the Lannisters briefly before a familiar head of white hair came running through.

“Gendry!” Daenerys yelled, embracing Gendry and he held her back just as tightly. Their meeting was short the first time, but they left perfect impressions on the other. “I heard and instantly wanted to run, but I have a country to run and -” 

“Bull!” Khal Drogo yelled, making everyone in the room jump. 

“Drogo. You know he hasn’t met you before, stop scaring him,” Dany warned, swatting at his stomach lightly. 

“Arya just talked about him and I know he’s big bullheaded idiot!” 

“Thank you, Khal,” Gendry said back, offering to shake his hand. Drogo bat it away as he embraced Gendry off of his feet then back down again as he spoke. 

“Drogo! You are a warrior through and through, my people would be proud of you,” he said, batting at Gendry’s chest, which cause the impact spot as much pain as when he was shot. Gendry groaned as he clutched his chest, and Drogo laughed, hooking his arm around Gendry’s shoulder. 

For the remainder of the day, it was formal proceedings that they had organised to discuss what they would choose to implement change amongst the seven kingdoms to make them more united and less divided as they once were. 

As Gendry stood to the side with Arya and the rest of the family as Robb took point with Ned, she leaned over to him. “So,” she whispered, “King Robert talked to you?” 

“I’m glad Dany came over,” Gendry whispered back. 

“Are you alright?” 

Gendry shrugged, “I’ll be fine. As long as I don’t interact with him for long, I’ll be ok,” he said, and Arya tugged on the back of his jacket. It was the only form of affection they could give each other as Gendry reached behind his back, touching at her fingertips as lightly as he could. Her hand slipped down to his, touching their hands against each other for the briefest of moments before it was gone.

The night wound down easily, the family gathering ending as each royal had to travel back to their homeland, Arya and gendry walked to her room, weaving their way through the castle to kill the time. Gendry suspected they’d be visited by Sansa or the two youngest boys at one stage, but he didn’t mind - it wasn’t like they were planning on doing anything exciting once they got to her room. At the bottom of the stairs, ready to climb for the fourth time, they were met by a figure at the top of the staircase. 

“Gendry, may I speak with you?” Catelyn asked, her head tilting towards her office. Gendry gave a nod back to her.

“Of course,” he said, looking to Arya with a smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t take too long,” she said. “Oh! Mum, can Gendry stay the night?” Arya asked, and as Gendry looked at the Queen, he went stiff, his entire body feeling trapped in one embarrassing moment. She glanced between the pair before she rolled her eyes. 

“Yes. But as I know you’re injured, I don’t expect anything to happen,” Catelyn remarked, “am I right, Mister Waters?” she asked, with a glare that could kill a person on sight if they weren’t prepared. Seven hells, Gendry almost died and he was prepared for the scolding she was ready to unleash.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Stop scaring him and go,” Arya warned as Gendry followed the queen. 

As they made it to her office, it was a complete surprise when the door closed. In a moment, Gendry was held so tightly, it was like the air had been sucked from his lungs. The queen held him tight, and the echo of a sob came out that made him look down.

“Oh!” he gasped, “Your majesty,” he said softly, stroking her arm to comfort her. She backed away, clearing her face of tears that stained her cheeks. He held her by the shoulders, making sure she was ok as he inspected her. 

“You almost gave your life for my son, and I cannot express how thankful I am for you,” she said with another sob leaving her chest. She covered her mouth and for a moment, it tore him in two; a subject of a royal, or the need to comfort like only a son could comfort his mother. The latter took over, as he brought her back into his chest and held her for a brief hug, keeping her small cries silenced by his chest. 

“It was all part of the job, your majesty,” he remarked. Staying put for a moment, she left his embrace, wiping her face clean once more and composing herself. 

“I understand,” she remarked with a sniff, “but please, and I know you’ve been trying not to, but don’t break that girl’s heart again. It was brutal enough the first time around,” she warned, and Gendry agreed with her. 

“It was never the intention, your majesty,” he said, taking a bow, heart in his throat at how natural everything seemed to be falling into place. Then, a knock came to the door, and in walked the king with a cup of tea for the queen. “Oh, good, you majesty is here too. May I please speak with you both?” Gendry started, the two listening to him throughout their entire conversation, leaving it on good terms. 

Gendry walked to Arya’s room, finding her in her bed, her arms folded an a deep scowl on her face. 

“I thought you would have been asleep. I was talking with your mum for a while,” Gendry said, loosening his tie and kick off his shoes. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Arya said, and Gendry stopped. He cautiously took off his jacket, undoing his belt and trying hard to strip down to his underwear as possibly without aggravating Arya. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, trying to kick off his pants, seeing if her reaction changed. 

“No! I just wanna talk,” she reasoned, letting her body loose, obviously realising her mistake of posture. 

“Ok,” he said, finding her spare set of boxers and loose singlet he could wear in her bed. After he was dressed, he snuck into bed beside Arya, holding onto her hand as she seemed to come up with the courage to say what she wanted. 

“I’m not going to ask you to stop,” she said, and Gendry took in a breath, as he realised what conversation he was having. “I know you like your work and it’s what brought us together.”

“But…”

“I just want you to be more careful. Put Robb in front of the bullet next time,” she said, and Gendry chuckled. 

“Arry,” he smiled. 

“Yeah I know, it’s treason,” she said, pouting. 

“I love you.” He leaned over to her, catching her chin in between his thumb and finger, kissing her quickly.  “I’ll be more careful, I promise.” 

“I know you will. You can’t stop danger all the time. Just...try not to get shot,” she asked weakly, looking at him with caution. 

“Trust me, I never want to get shot again,” he laughed and Arya hit his arm for being an idiot. “Can we go to bed now?” 

“Yes,” she said, and Gendry lept at his chance to curl her into his embrace, holding her tightly and kissing behind her ear. He just wanted her to know he held her as tenderly as she deserved. 

 

*~*~*

 

When Sansa arrived in Arya’s room that morning, ready to finally tell her sister who she was dating, she wasn’t quite expecting to see what she did. In the bed slept Arya and Gendry wrapped in sheets and each other’s embrace. 

Sansa’s news could wait, because for the first time, she had seen Arya fully and perfectly protected. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: wonderrbat  
> twitter: corinne_rinny


End file.
